He nudges me as we head out to the barn, “So how’d it feel?” He waggles his brows an I feel myself instantly blush as I shake my head.
“I’m not going to dignify that question with a response.” I roll my eyes and take another sip of my caffeine. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” He lets off a chuckled mmhmm before sliding the barn door open and the pungent smell of week-old manure is almost enough to knock me backwards.
“This is what you were looking for, right?” He gives me a sideways glance and a mischievous smirk, “I’ve got more of it in the trailer out back.”
“Thanks Gramps. Have him load it into the spreader and then take it out to the fields to dump. It sure would be a shame if the distributer was broken and he had to do it all by hand.” I match his deviousness stride for stride as he tips his hat to me.
“I like the way you think peanut.”
A voice clears behind us. Turning I see Robert standing there in a grey threadbare T-shirt, jeans swung low on his hips, work boots and a green baseball cap that has seen better days. Power oozes from every ripple on his body and I’m forced to inconspicuously shake off my reaction to him. Grabbing a nearby shovel, I throw it at him, and he misses the catch causing it to land in a pile of shit near his boot.
“Looks like I’m gonna have to work on your catching as well. Get this barn scooped out and whatever else Gramps needs done, then come find me.”
* * *
I’ve been shoveling shit for hours. The sun is up, and the rising temperature only elevates the scent in the barn and my temper. I know that she’s planned this little bit of torture for me and me alone. There’s no way other players have gone through the kind of crap she’s put me in for the last forty-eight hours. The only thing keeping me sane at this point is remembering the feeling of her hand on me this morning. Sure I was walking a little differently thanks to her iron grasp, but man it felt good to be touched again.
I look around the barn as I wipe the sweat from my brow and take stock of my progress. A few more shit piles are all that stand between me a hot shower and lunch. I slide the head of my shovel under a large pile just as the sliding door opens and the cattle make their way through. “Aww! Come on man!” I yell out in frustration towards the old man leading them straight through the clean part of the barn.
“Sorry. Had to get them to pasture,” he says with a smirk as he pats them one by one on the back, mumbling something under his breath.
“Don’t mess with me old man. I know you could have put them through the gate on the north side.”
“Yea, but those weren’t Donovan’s instructions.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Not you too? That’s not her name!”
“I suggest you quit worrying about her name and start worrying about what she told you to do. Her name is the least of your worries right now boy.”
I look around the barn and am pleasantly surprised when I only see a couple of fresh shit piles. “Nice try Presley,” I mumble under my breath while scooping the remaining piles into the spreader and spraying out the barn. Gramps throws me a broom and a bottle of soap which I again drop. Not that it was intentional, but mainly because I was holding a wet hose while they were lodged at my head.
Gramps shakes his head and mumbles something as he steps out the door, “Make sure you get it clean. Got a new herd getting dropped off this evening.”
I roll my eyes and get to work. Muttering every curse I could think of to the green-eyed, blonde-haired bombshell that has completely uprooted my life. My stomach growls with each push of the push broom and as I’m wrapping up hose I notice a sandwich set on the ledge above the hose storage. No note but fixed just the way she used to make them for me. Bread, mayo, ham, cheese, tomato, lettuce, mayo and the final slice of bread. She always put the tomatoes in the center of the sandwich; said it prevented the bread from getting soggy and gross. She was right, I never had a soggy sandwich and the guys would always comment on how delicious they looked when we would take a break during practice. I missed this. Hell, I missed her, but she was the one that left me. She was the one that ruined my call up and I’d been paying for it ever since, and now she was my only ticket to the majors. I look around and find I’m alone. No trace of her. The fucking story of my life.
I sit on the front stoop enjoying the sandwich probably more than I honestly should have and then set out to find her. I look in the stables, nothing. I head into the house. Her door is open so clearly she’s not in there and then I hear Mrs. D in the kitchen. She’s always liked me, so I know she’ll help me out. “Hey Mrs. D.”
“Oh. Oh! Robert. You, umm, Donovan have you in the cattle barn today?” She coughs and moves to open a few windows.
Again I roll my eyes at the mention of Donovan. “Is this a normal occurrence?”
“Every player is different Robert. No two players have ever been treated the same because no two people are the same. Just trust her. She knows what she’s doing.” She offers me a sympathetic smile.
“Speaking of Donovan,” I put her name in air quotes and grimace as I force the name through my lips, “do you know where she is?”
“What did she tell you Robert?”
“Just to come and find her.”
“Then I guess that’s what you need to do.”
“I’ve already checked the stables. She’s not in there.”
Mrs. D lets out an exasperated sigh, “Robert, I like you. And I’ve seen her get pretty rough with some of these players. But please know that everything she’s doing is done for a reason. You need to trust her.”
I scoff. Trust. Like I could ever trust her. She ruined me.
“This is a big ranch and a small town. If she’s not in the first place you look, keep looking. You’ll eventually find her.” She offers me a hopeful smile and pats my chest before leaving me alone.
I walk out of the house and sit down on the back porch. She’ll eventually be home. I don’t know what her game plan is, but I’m certain playing a game of hide and seek isn’t going to get me signed any faster.
* * *
I sit in my car staring up at the brown brick building with fire-engine red trim; I always came to visit coach when I was in town. Williams Point High School introduced me to my love of baseball and it’s where Robert West, the kid with the golden arm, was trained and molded. There was no way I could get him to where he needed to be without coming back here, this time on a business visit.
I pushed my car door open and the sound of a ball and a bat shattered through the air. It was three in the afternoon and soon baseball season would be in full swing. I strolled over to the practice field and saw coach standing next to the dug-out watching batting practice. His eyes were glued to his players looking for that next big star. We both knew that this senior class didn’t hold much weight, but there was a freshman pitcher that I wanted to keep my eye on. He was currently a mess, but with the right guidance this kid could go far if he wanted too. He had it in him; that natural talent that just needed to be drawn out.
“Hey Coach,” I called out to him and offered a friendly wave.
His face lit up like a child on Christmas morning as he embraced me. “Donovan! Good to see you.” He stepped back and cocked his brow at me. “I heard there was a certain player back in town.”
Guess news travels fast in a small town. I give a small nod and tuck a loose strand behind my ear. “Yea. You can thank Liv and Trey for that.”
He chuckles and nods in amusement.
“Anyway, I came to watch your guys practice. Maybe even get in some batting practice if you have one that’s up for it.”
Again he chuckles and shifts his weight, “And?”
“And nothing,” I feign hurt, but he knows me too well. “Why do I need to want something? Can't I just come and watch?”
“Anyone else, yes. You, No.”
We both laugh and he bumps me with his shoulder. “I want to see that freshman.”
“The pitcher?”
“That’s
the one.”
“You know he’s not ready for anything just yet.”
“I know. I just want one more look at him. Just to make sure my assumptions are correct.”
He gives me a sharp nod and I take my seat behind home plate. I watch pitch after pitch for thirty minutes before dismissing the kid and making my way down to the field.
“So, what do you think?”
I look to the kid and then back to coach before I feel my evil smile break free. “I think Robert’s gonna have his hands full.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. Removing his sunglasses and hooking his hands on his waist. “I just wanted to let you know that I think what you’re doing is great. So many companies try to fix or improve a single part of the player. You focus on the whole person.”
I don’t shy away from his compliment as I raise my head a little higher. “That’s why I’m the best.”
“And don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
We share a smile and I make my way back into the stands. Just observing. Making notes here and there on players and habits that they are starting to form. I never tell coach what needs to change, and I never get involved in the coaching process, conflict of interest and whatnot, but I offer suggestions and leave it up to him to decide if he wants to address them.
As practice ends I make my way into town. It’s almost six thirty. I’m tired and hungry and still there has been no sign of Robert. Our town isn’t big, blink and you’ll more than likely miss it completely. I haven’t been hiding from him, and I’ve stayed in every location I’ve visited today for multiple hours. I pull into the hotel and make my way inside, stopping at the front desk to check in.
“Welcome to the Happy Hole Inn. Do you have a reservation?”
“Yes. Donovan West.”
The host presses a few buttons on the keyboard and pulls up my standing reservation. “Yes Ms. West. Another client in town?”
I nod and offer a friendly smile.
“Let me get your key. We had the room made up this morning and all your personal items have been brought in from storage.”
“Thank you. I’ll order room service tonight and please, no calls.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
* * *
I’ve sat on the back porch swing for the last several hours without so much as a sign from Presley. I’m not chasing after her and I have yet to see how shoveling shit and sitting on my ass all day is going to help my game. Whatever she’s being paid to work with me isn’t worth it. I have half a good mind to pack my truck and drive directly down to Arlington. Force the Rangers to look at me and give me the opportunity I’ve been waiting years for; if they can't see my value then that’s on them. I’ll go somewhere else. I’ll go to every open try-out I can if that’s what it takes.
The long shadow thrown from the oak tree has crept up the porch stairs and begins to cover the tip of my boot pulling me from the war raging inside my mind. Do I stay, or do I go? If I listen closely I can hear the banging of pots and pans, dinner must be just about done so I make my way inside.
“Food smells great Mrs. D.”
“Well thank you Robert.”
“When will dinner be ready?”
She freezes. Her back to me as she soaks a dish in the oversized farmhouse sink. Kringle nudges my hand and I brush him off. “Robert, players don’t eat with us. Didn’t you see the refrigerator and menus in your room? You’re responsible for your own meals here.”
“But Mrs. D, I’m not like the other play—”
“Robert, I’m going to stop you right there. Just because we have a history does not mean you’ll be treated any different than the others that have spent time out here. Pres—I mean Donovan—has this program set up down to a science, and she does it for a reason. You are a lost player in desperate need of help and guidance and that’s exactly what she is going to give you. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“It’s clear you don’t respect her or what she is trying to accomplish. You’re not the only one she has dealt with like this, however you have far more to gain than any of those other players. You also stand to lose more than anyone else.”
Everyone around here talks in nothing but riddles, and it’s starting to piss me off. I roll my eyes and brush past the white ball of fluff. “I’ll be in my room.” I’m starving and smell like shit. I guess I’ll be going to the grocery store tomorrow, and the liquor store. If Presley thinks she can control me, she’ll be the one sorely mistaken. Karma is a dish best served cold and she’ll get what’s coming to her. I know the whole town shuts down at ten in the evening and I’ll be ready for her when she gets home.
I turn the knob to my door, but it doesn’t budge. I jiggle the handle and try to force it open, but it doesn’t move. I throw my head back in frustration and turn towards the end of the hallway only to see Mrs. D standing there propped up against the beige colored wall.
“Everything alright dear?”
I scowl at her as if she doesn’t know the predicament I’m in. “Do you have the key to my room?”
Her somber eyes tell me all I need to know. Presley.
“I’m sorry dear. Only Donovan has it.”
My patience is wearing thin with this infuriating, manipulative woman. “Well when will she be home?”
“When you find her.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now! Woman don’t you know I’m tired, smell like shit, and am hungry as hell. Give me the key.”
Her petite frame straitens and takes on a dominant appearance, “Don’t you raise your voice to me young man. I suggested you take a shower earlier. You chose not to. You had all day to look for her and what did you do? Not a damn thing, that’s what. I watched you sit on your ass just waiting. Waiting for what? For her? If you haven’t figured it out in five years, then boy you’re dumber than a box of rocks. That girl isn’t coming back for you. You want something bad enough, then you work for it. You make an effort for it. You put in the work for it. You being locked out is not her fault. It’s your own!” She turns from the hallway and moves back towards the living room.
“And where the hell am I supposed to sleep tonight? Hmm? Tell me that?” I call after her.
“You were smart once, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She says from the other room.
“And what about my clothes?”
“They look fine to me.”
“A shower?”
“Again, you’ll figure it out.”
Red is all I see. I grab my truck keys from the front table and decided to head to mom’s. I know there I’ll get a meal and a place to sleep. I bet I could even talk her in to doing my laundry for me. Presley’s not as smart as she likes to think she is. “I’m going into town. Don’t wait up,” I growl out before letting the screen door slam behind me.
A small giggle brushes the airwaves and I turn around to see Mrs. D staring at me from the porch steps.
“What?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
I immediately click the unlock button on the remote, the truck is silent as my eyes widen at the realization of what she’s more than likely done. I quickly make my way over to the driver side door, unlock it with the key which sends the alarm blaring and pop the hood. There where my battery should be sits an empty space. “She fucked with my truck didn’t she.”
“Just a little something her daddy taught her. I’m sorry dear.”
“You raised an evil woman Mrs. D. What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“There are horses in the barn, hay will keep you warm enough, and I hope you remember where the orchard is.” She gives me a cocky smile before turning and heading into the house.
“Your daughter is dead when I find her,” I call out behind her.
“Whatever you say, Robert.” The screen door bangs closed behind her followed by the wooden door and the click of the lock.
This has got to be some form of wicked, cruel and unusual punishme
nt. Presley Donovan has met her match and she’s about to go down.
* * *
A week later, I am sore, tired and broken. I haven’t slept more than a couple of hours each night. I’ve resorted to skinny dipping in the stream on the north side of the property and washing my clothes with the hose. I live off of apples, pears, carrots and green beans from the garden. The little demon could have at least checked to make sure my wallet wasn’t in my room when she chose to lock the door. I did take a horse into town to have dinner with mom one night, but she wasn’t home. Surprise. Surprise. At this point it wouldn’t have shocked me to find out that she had been following “orders” from Donovan to not help me.
I’ve just finished cleaning the cattle barn when Gramps brings me an envelope with my name on the front, in if I remember correctly, Presley’s handwriting.
Be at the high school field house at two forty-five. You’ve got someone counting on you to show up.
–D.W.
I look over the paper and notice a water mark on it. The Happy Hole Inn. I let out a deep frustrated growl. Why can't I call her what I want to call her. There isn’t a word in the English language that conveys my anger towards her. All I know is that when I get my hands on her I’m going to make her pay.
God, when I get my hands on her. There are so many things I want to do to her. I haven’t been with anyone since she left and now that she’s back, she has invaded my dreams on a nightly occurrence. Sometimes I’m taking her from behind, raw and aggressive. Other times I’m making love to her, taking my time with her until she screams my name, no end and no beginning, just two people wound so tightly together. And other times we are curled up on the couch or in bed and I’m just holding her; those may be my favorite.
Snap the fuck out of it. Grow a pair. She doesn’t control you. You’ve only been around her for nine days. Nine long, excruciating days. Don’t forget about the five years of torture she’s put you through on a daily basis.
I look down at the note once more and look at my watch. It’s already two in the afternoon and if I’m going to make it to the high school in time I need to leave now. I quickly saddle up a horse and make my way to the high school practice fields. Coach greets me out front with a handshake and a quick hug, laughing as he gestures to the horse.
Tag Forever Mine Page 19
