by Imani King
She was. But more than anything, she felt puzzled. Who in the world was this guy? She looked him over, taking in his dusty blue jeans and his simple un-buttoned white shirt. His boots fitted his persona perfectly but they were dusty too. Beneath his hat, she saw the ends of blackberry colored hair.
He turned to the horse once more to remove a lunch box from the satchel, as well, and turned back to her again. The lunch box wasn’t very big, so Ari knew there couldn’t be much inside. Not that she really cared; she only needed something edible to fuel her up so she could get going again.
The man started toward her but paused after a few paces.
She hadn’t even noticed she had tensed up again, but he apparently had.
“If a morning run is burning that hot in your blood then don’t let me stop you,” he said with a resigned shrug.
She blinked, not quite following him. Hadn’t he about to give her food? “What?”
“I’ve seen rabbits less ready to take off. Think if I so much as blink, then you’ll be gone so fast I wouldn’t be able to catch my breath.”
She couldn’t tell if he was trying to be amusing or if he really was a simpleton. She didn’t feel in the mood to deal with either. Here she was eyeing his flask of coffee and lunch box greedily and he was talking about scared rabbits. Sure, she was ready to bolt but only after she enjoyed his hospitality. Her stomach rumbled loudly, saying what she couldn’t say with her mouth.
Again, the playful grin took over the man’s entire features.
Ari noticed his face was quite pleasant, handsome even.
“Care to tell me your name?” he asked suddenly.
She shook her head immediately. She might be hungry, but she wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t going to leave clues just so she could easily be found.
The man considered her thoughtfully for a moment. He shrugged in a pronounced way, as if to tell her that he didn’t mind her not volunteering her name despite his warmth and friendliness. Walking slowly, he paid no mind as the water washed over his boots, keeping to the shallower parts as he made his way across the stream towards her. “Tell you what,” he said when he was some eight to ten feet away. “If you’re really that spooked, then I’ll just leave it for you over here. I’ll give you space and keep to my side.”
“I didn’t say I wanted anything from you,” she said in a weak voice. Her tongue was heavily salivating already and even she could hear the lie in her words. She knew the man heard it too.
Yet, he simply set the lunch box down near the pile of stones—he must know she considered them her weapon, giving her some modicum of power—opened it and took out a short tin cup. He didn’t spare her a glance as he poured some of the liquid from the flask inside.
Ari saw steam drifting up from the cup and her stomach grumbled again, the traitor. She thought she saw a smile curve up the man’s lips but he said nothing as he carefully set the cup down beside the box. Done, he unfolded his body slowly as if careful of startling her and took a few steps back before crossing the water again.
She watched him carefully, her feet rooted to the spot even as her legs trembled with the urge to move. She really needed the food. Unblinking, she watched as the man leaned back against the boulder he’d been sitting on and crossed his arms, waiting.
Ari felt stupid. She couldn’t imagine how she could feel so uncertain when she really had made up her mind already. She considered the stones around the tin. None of them were very big, but she was sure she could throw them well enough if she had to. Still, she thought conversely, if the stones didn’t do the job of causing him some serious injury then they would only serve to make him angry. A knot of dread twisted in her gut at the thought and she felt sick. But she did need to eat, though.
Keeping one eye on him, she went to her rock pile and grabbed the biggest stone. Then she sidled her way over to the box, waiting for him to rush toward her without any kind of warning. Men could be mercilessly patient when it came to things like this. She’d learned this lesson all too well. That’s probably what made them such naturals at hunting. She eyed the stranger again. He’d already compared her to a rabbit, and a fish in a bizarre fashion. Did he see her as something to catch? She glanced back at the box. Could it be the bait to lure her in? She could be handing herself right over at the moment. The thought that there might not really be any food inside made her heart sink and she fought hard against the rising heat in her eyes. Why did people have to be so cruel?
She hesitated, only a couple of feet from the box. She could smell the coffee, that much was real at least. She swallowed hard and looked back at the man.
The humor in his eyes had vanished, and he now watched her with pure, sad pity.
A moment of brief realization came over her and relief was quick to follow. But it quickly gave way to anger and she felt her face scrunch up in a scowl as she turned back helplessly to the ‘breakfast’. She got to her knees, taking the tin cup by the handle and opened the box. There was a checkered cloth inside, apparently wrapping something within. She unwrapped the cloth and felt like she’d found a treasure when she saw the sandwich and cooked potato.
Unconsciously, her hand grabbed the sandwich and she took a bite. The taste was heavenly; the meat in it still had warmth and she tasted salt. Still holding on to her stone, she took another grateful bite, then another and another and another. When half of the sandwich was gone, she took a drink from the tin cup, feeling the familiar brew wash down the food. The coffee was hot and strong, just how she liked it. Her stomach churned a little in protest but soon relaxed as the liquid settled. Eyeing the other half of the sandwich, Ari looked pointedly at the man.
He shrugged.
She interpreted this to mean he was permitting her to eat the other half.
Quickly, she started to devour the rest of the sandwich. Still munching on the feast, she covertly peeked at the man across the stream.
He seemed more curious than anything now. However, he casually took a swig from the coffee flask as he watched her eat. He then tilted his head to the side and pointed at his own eye. “That’s a mean-looking bruise you got.”
Her jaw set mid-chew.
“Who did that?”
“That’s none of your business,” she said sternly, glaring at him.
He appeared resigned and said no more about it.
Ari didn’t want to think about how she must look: dirty with soaking wet hair, crouched on the ground over someone else’s food with a black eye, tense and paranoid of any sudden movement. Simply and utterly pathetic; that was how she must look. It was no wonder the man thought she looked like a rabbit. Telling herself not to get bothered over something so trivial, she looked at the potato in the box reflectively. She’d prepared similar meals, herself, in a house, in her own kitchen. Ari turned and caught the man studying her unabashedly. He didn’t look like he would pounce on her this much she knew, and she knew when a man wanted to pounce. Now that there was food in her stomach, her mind was beginning to work with more ease and clarity. She swallowed and said aloud, “I’m not an animal.”
The man paused in returning the flask’s cap. He said nothing.
Ari shook her head and added, “You called me a rabbit. And a fish person. I don’t care how you meant it, but I am not an animal.”
His eyebrows rose with some intrigue. “Well, I say not. No animal’s ever made such a statement, least not to me. I apologize for any insult, Miss.” He took off his hat and held it over his chest. “It was never intended.”
She decided to let the matter go. Her eyes went back to the lunch box, regarding what was left of the sandwich. “Did you make this?” she asked, taking the last bite.
“No, Ma’am,” he said, shifting his weight to the other leg. “I can barely cook to save my life. That meat was given to me by a good friend, Everett. He works on this ranch, too. I’m just the one who threw it together with a few other things to make a sandwich.”
She paused. “Ranch?” It was the only word that
sank.
“That’s right,” he said with a nod. “Westbrooke Ranch. Covers several acres. Well-liked in these parts.”
‘I’m on someone’s property,’ she realized.
“That there—” Logan looked back at his horse. “That’s Atlanta. He was born and raised here. He’s got a few brothers and cousins too, though a couple have been sold. I took a liking to him when I started working here. He’s not actually mine, but we make a pretty good team.”
The introduction was hugely unnecessary and Ari wondered if he was simply giving her time to adjust to the news that she had been trespassing or if he didn’t just want her apparent hysteria to rise. Either way, it worked.
“You work here?” she asked curiously. “As a ranch hand?” It would be better if he did; then, he couldn’t arrest her outright for trespassing.
He nodded. “Been getting better at it since I turned thirteen. But I’ve only worked for Val about four months.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Ari looked up at him with evident worry. “That I was here?
He gave her a curious look. “If by ‘him’ you mean Val, then I kind of have to. She likes to know when people are on the property. We’ve had thieves make several attempts at getting away with her horses.”
“I’m not a thief,” she scoffed, finishing the last of her coffee before putting the lid down on the box. Surely, the man didn’t think she could rustle any cattle given her stature. “I just needed to sleep before I could go any further. Now I’m awake and I’ll be on my way. I won’t make trouble for anyone.”
“Now hold on a minute—” Logan started.
“Which direction is the quickest way off this ranch?” she asked, ignoring his directive and hoping to God the way off the ranch wasn’t back the way she’d come from.
“No need to go rushing off so soon,” the man said.
“I need to get going.”
“Where?”
“If I keep following this stream, will that take me off the property?” she returned his question with one of hers.
“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?” he asked with such confidence that she couldn’t form any kind of denial.
“I—” she tried though, looking aimlessly down the stream. The babbling water was the only sound, as neither of them spoke. Ari felt truly lost. She was lost…at a loss for answers as well as for hope.
The man looked at the duffel bag still guarding the little dirt hole she’d been sleeping in. “Is that why you don’t want to tell me your name?” he asked. “You don’t want anyone to know you were here?”
The look she gave him left no doubt.
The pity was back in his eyes, but now he looked more thoughtful, even determined. “You don’t want to tell me whom you’re running from; that’s your business, but do you at least know what you’re running to?”
“I’ll find…” She gestured to nothing in front of her. “…something. I’ll—I’ll find somewhere with room and board and ask around for work.”
He tilted his head again. “You work?”
“Yes, I work,” she said, a little defensively. “I’m a good worker. I’ve worked since I was fifteen years old, one place or another.”
“What kind of work you looking to do?”
Her heart sped up again and she cast him an untrusting glance.
He put up a hand. “I’m not asking for me, I’m asking for Val.”
“Why?” she asked warily.
“Because she might be willing to help you out, if you’re willing to help her out.”
Ari’s eyes trailed along the stones along the river as she thought rapidly.
“If nothing else,” Logan continued convincingly. “You could work out a deal to get yourself cleaned up a bit. Maybe get a better meal before you went on your way. Val and her daughters are good people. They wouldn’t want to send you off like this.” He gestured to her dirty dress.
Her chest tightened for a bit. If she looked like this after only one night, she wasn’t sure how she’d look by the time she reached more people.
“What say you we both go and say hi to her,” the man suggested. “I’ve got to head back to the house anyway.”
Ari looked at him, really looked at him. He seemed sincere enough, and she reminded herself that not all men were scoundrels. Quite frankly, his face was a refreshing change from what she was used to seeing on a regular basis. She took a deep breath and willed herself to show a little trust. She was a grown woman after all. If she wanted people to trust her, she’d have to show some faith too. Plus, she had been sleeping on someone’s property. At the very least, she owed this Val an apology. She might have lost her dignity but not her manners.
“Alright,” she said quietly.
“Alright?”
She nodded.
He looked encouraged and went to untie his Atlanta. “You ever rode a horse?”
“Yes,” she answered without an explanation.
“Good,” he said, satisfied. He led the animal closer to the stream, giving it a chance to take a drink. “It’ll be a tight fit but he can carry us both.”
“I—uh, think I’ll just walk,” Ari said, now only thinking of riding with him.
He laughed a little. “Well, you’re welcome to, but we’re a good four miles away from the ranch house, at least. Atlanta can get us there much quicker.”
Ari felt defeated. She didn’t want to ride pressed up against this person, but she also didn’t want to walk that far. What if this Val woman got mad at her for slowing him down and wasting time?
“Why don’t you come and say hi?” Logan said pleasantly, patting his horse’s neck. “He’s a sweetie.” He crossed the water to collect the lunch box, leading his horse with him.
Ari slowly came closer. Such a beautiful animal, and well cared for. Its coat was a warm, reddish brown color with darker grey around its nuzzle. The horse snorted as she came closer and leaned in to smell her.
“Hey there, boy,” she murmured, carefully reaching out to pet it. She knew better than to be afraid around these animals; they were after all, more reasonable than most men. She allowed herself to relax a bit knowing it would too. “Hi, Atlanta.” It searched for food in her hand but finding none, resigned to just getting petted.
“Alright,” Logan said as he got his stuff packed back in the satchel. “If you could climb up, I’ll hand you the bag and join you.”
She was less than enthused about this arrangement, but forced herself to move before she could change her mind. She pursed her lips with discomfort as he climbed up right behind her.
“Why don’t I carry that for you and you take the reins,” he said.
She hadn’t expected that, but he said no more about it as he maneuvered the duffel bag from her grasp so she could get a good hold. Holding tightly to the reins, she paused for only a moment before ushering the horse forward. In a lifetime away when things were saner, she had enjoyed riding a horse.
Now, she simply let her hands and feet do the work as she tried not to think about the man behind her.
*****
They rode for some time without talking, and Logan wondered how he was going to explain things to Val when he showed up with this strange woman and her duffel bag. More so, he wondered what he would have done if she hadn’t agreed to come with him. He could have offered to escort her to the edge of the property. Even if she’d insisted on going alone, he probably would have followed behind her just to be safe. He wouldn’t have felt right otherwise. A lady out on her own would have been cause for concern altogether, but that mark on her face. The idea that someone had laid his hands on her to drive her so far as to run away on foot… Logan shook his head. The thought of any man hitting a woman made his skin prickle with heat.
And the way she had looked at him, again, Logan shook his head. There’d been such a cautious look in her eyes and it’d been heartbreaking to watch. She had been wary of the tiniest breath he took even with a stream of running water between them th
at he’d even felt afraid to do so much as draw in air near her… something, or someone had really gotten to her.
He wondered who it was.
Logan knew none of that mattered now because she had agreed to go with him to the house. For now, it was all he could do for her. Val would surely take over from him when he got her to the house. He looked over the little lady’s shoulder now at the way she handled the reins. She certainly seemed experienced with handling a horse. The way she petted the horse too, showed more than enough. He decided that he believed her when she said she was a hard worker. He hoped things would work out for her at the Westbrooke Ranch—that, of course, was if she decided to stick around a while.
Logan decided he wanted her to stick around.
“Landon Cartwright, you said your name was, right?” she said. Her voice was sharply inquisitive as if she wanted to keep the information handy just in case.
“Logan,” he corrected. “Logan Cartwright.”
She said nothing afterwards, looking doggedly onwards.
They continued on in silence. Several minutes passed before the farmhouse and stables came into view. In the wheat field to the west of the farm houses, a couple of people completed their work in the scorching sun and Logan waved when he saw Everett on a horse some ways off, no doubt looking for him.
Everett saw Logan at the same time and immediately made for him but slowed a little when he saw the extra cargo Atlanta had brought.
Logan felt grateful for his friend’s thoughtfulness as he kept a careful distance even as he rode up to hearing range. His guest acted as spooky as a horse in labor and Logan felt afraid she would jump off the horse and break her neck if anybody got too close. As it was, she sat as still as a block of lead in front of him. Her petite shoulders were so stiff they must surely hurt.
“Guess this explains why you’re late, Cartwright,” Everett remarked in his slow drawl that always gave the impression of laziness. Yet, the man was far from lazy. Though older, the man could work the same as ten men from dawn till sunset without a break.
Sometimes, Logan wondered how he never fell ill or got tired. Everett always looked strong and hearty. Logan sure had never heard of a day Everett fell ill. Nearly forty, his graying black hair was cut short and his skin looked tanned from the sun.
