by Gray Gardner
“Here,” he grinned, handing up the clear plastic cup with sunflowers. She fell to her knees and grabbed it, gulping the ice cold wetness down in two seconds.
“You should really wear the bandana,” he began, taking his sunglasses off and frowning at her. “And where is your hat?”
She blinked and felt her head with her worn, pink hands. Glancing to her right, she peered down into the pen with the crying calves. It must have blown off at some point… though now there was no rescuing it.
Hall sighed loudly over the howling. “You’re gonna get sunburned,” he scolded, reaching into his back pocket and grabbing a granola bar. “Here, eat this.”
She caught the green package and ripped it open, doing as he commanded. Just as she was about to look up and thank him with a mouthful of honeyed granola, he reached up and pressed his hat down onto her head. It was a little big but fit because of her ponytail, and it was definitely wet with his sweat. And damn, it smelled good.
“Well, won’t you get sunburned now?” she asked, cheeks full.
A hint of a smile crossed his face as he put his sunglasses back on.
“I don’t have pale pink skin like you. I just get tan.”
“I can get tan!” she lied, calling out to him as he galloped back to the front pen full of waiting cows and calves. She’d never been tan a day in her life. Groaning as she stood and stretched her back, the gate at the end of the chute suddenly popped open. Ugh, that wasn’t much of a break.
The late afternoon sun beat against her back, causing her shirt and jeans to cling wetly to her body. Her hands were now a mixture of pink splotches, red rust streaks, and one popped blister. The sounds of the cattle surrounding her echoed in her head, making her feel like she couldn’t even hear herself think. The last of the stragglers hoofed through the chute.
“Come on,” Hall called, riding up next to her, his sweaty clothes sticking tightly to him, too. “Day’s over. It’s Miller time.”
He nodded at the open door to the barn, where the rest of the guys helping out were leaning against the sides, stretching their legs against an old open refrigerator and chugging beers in the cool shade. Case licked her lips and took a step forward. Her shoelace caught on the old, splintered wood of the platform and she fell to her left knee. Her other leg swung off the side of the platform and her body soon followed. She grasped for the wooden planks but fell abruptly into the pen with the calves.
“Shit! Case!”
She pushed up to her knees and little hooves stomped all around her, smelly furry bodies shoving into her as she tried to stand up. A hard head and slimy nose slammed into her shoulder, knocking her back down. Two large hands suddenly hooked under her arms and she was yanked up to the fence, her whole body slamming into it. She grabbed for the bars but an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her over the top of the pen, then sort of gently lowered her to the ground. She fell back onto her ass and leaned on her hands, looking up.
“God, are you alright?” Hall huffed, leaning over on his knees and gaping at her.
Swallowing and wincing as the dust scratched all of the way down her throat, she closed her eyes for a second to compose herself. His concern was moving but her whole body ached.
“Well, there goes my other hat,” he sighed, standing up and holding a hand down to her. “Can’t you tie your damn shoes?”
She slowly reached up and he pulled her to her feet, both of them looking apathetically down at her shoelaces. She was too tired, so she just decided to look back up at him with a tired sigh. He had black smears all over his chest and sleeves. She frowned as she breathed in and took a step backwards.
“What’s all over your shirt?” she asked, voice still husky.
“The same thing that’s all over your back,” he smirked, hands on his hips.
What? She jerked her head around and found her entire back and jeans covered in cow excrement.
“Ugh, crap!”
“Exactly,” he nodded, taking her shoulder and leading her around towards the house. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”
She peered over her shoulder back at the barn. The other guys were laughing and talking and she suddenly felt guilty.
“You can go with your friends. I know how to clean myself up, you know.”
“Nah, this is a good excuse to head into the air conditioning,” he nodded, directing her to the back of the house. She felt relaxed with his hand on her shoulder… like it belonged there.
They climbed some wide, simple concrete steps, and paused by a door underneath a deep wooden awning. Hall kicked out an old bootjack and began working off his crusty brown boots. Case followed suit and kicked off her tennis shoes. When she looked up, he was unsnapping his white shirt and mindlessly looking out into the pasture beyond the live oak trees behind the house.
Turning her head down quickly, she pressed her lips together and paused momentarily. Was he going to completely undress? Did he expect her to?
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Case. I am twenty-seven, you know,” he muttered with a smile, watching her curiously, as she glued her eyes to her feet while her cheeks flushed adorably. He tossed his shirt into a faded yellow laundry basket and paused. Was she really that shy? Was she… he frowned as it suddenly dawned on him.
Case acted tough and fearless, but in reality, she was… the other kind of boarding school girl. Shaking his head as he smiled to himself, he opened the door leading inside to the mudroom and pulled out a faded navy Texas Sesquicentennial shirt. He had to admit that he kind of liked that about her, though when he’d been at boarding school she was not the type of boarding school girl he’d been attracted to. He wondered to himself when those feelings had changed when he handed the shirt over to her.
“Here, I’m going inside. Put this on.”
She turned her eyes up and felt her cheeks grow hotter as he stood in front of her, shirtless, chest…well, perfect, jeans hanging on his hips over taut stomach muscles, handing her a shirt. She quickly grabbed it and turned around, hearing the door shut behind her. She let out long breath, not realizing she’d been holding it, and quickly peeled off her shirt and jeans.
The t-shirt hung over her elbows and knees but it did the job. She tiptoed inside in her bare feet, hoping to skirt by Hall and make it upstairs so that she could get in a quick shower. She smelled like sweat and cow shit. Not attractive.
“In here we get yella bellies,” Hall called when she rounded the corner into the kitchen. He stood up from behind the white door of the Frigidaire and lobbed a Coors Original at her. She squeaked as she barely caught it against her chest, but quickly opened it after Hall did the same.
God, why wouldn’t he just put a shirt on? He just stood there in his jeans, leaning against the counter and enjoying the hell out of his beer. She squeezed the light yellow can and took a sudsy sip.
“Thanks for helping out today,” Hall sighed, taking another long sip, and wiping his forehead with his wrist. “I honestly wasn’t sure how I was going to get all of this done.”
Case sipped her beer and nodded her head, looking away the instant his eyes found hers. She couldn’t be caught staring at him.
Hall finished his beer in one last chug and reached into the fridge for another. Was she truly that uncomfortable with him without a shirt on? He scanned her face for any signs of fear, but she really just looked reticent about the whole thing. His eyes drew down her body to her legs poking out from his long t-shirt.
“So… did you play any sports at,” Hall began, but paused when he realized he wasn’t quite sure which boarding school she’d attended.
Case grinned, glad to get her attention away from his torso.
“Fox Ridge,” she nodded, brushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. “And I played tennis.”
His eyes flashed down to her legs for a split second and he nodded as if in agreement, then replied, “I thought so. I went to Old Hollow down the road.”
“Really?” she asked, wondering why she ne
ver knew that. “Most of our friends went there.”
He knew that when she said “our” she meant her dorm mates and when she said “friends,” she meant her dorm mates boyfriends. He’d met a lot of slutty girls that went to Fox Ridge who would never turn their eyes and blush at the sight of him in nothing but jeans. She definitely fell into the category of “other type of boarding school girl.” The good girl kind. The kind he found so damned attractive at the moment.
Frowning as he looked her up and down, she took another sip and stared right back at him, running her hand along the kitchen table top.
“So, like, how long have you been dating Virginia Welch?” She made sure he understood that there was genuine amusement when she said the name.
He narrowed his eyes and watched her as she attempted, very poorly, to casually look uninterested, as if she was inquiring about the weather. He suppressed a grin and folded his arms over his chest.
“We’re not dating, just having dinner or sundaes every now and then,” he replied, watching her face scrunch up in surprise. He knew sarcasm would soon follow after that particular look.
“Sundaes?” Case smirked, taking a step forward and putting her hand on her hip. “What, are they laced with Wild Turkey?”
“Virginia’s not really a drinker….”
“Ha!” Case squealed, shaking her head and trying to stifle the boisterous and unladylike cackling that threatened to escape her lips.
Hall took a step closer and raised his brow. What did she know that he didn’t? He knew everyone in Oakwood knew each other, but he wasn’t sure how Case and Virginia fit together.
“No, no, stop, please,” she giggled, holding her hand up and begging for mercy. “Just tell me… what is your impression of her? In ten words or less.”
Hall sighed heavily at the assignment but managed a quick response. “Sweet, simple, small town girl…”
Case doubled over and closed her eyes tightly. Oh God, this was pure gold! Her shoulders shook as she held in every laugh and she finally had to grip the side of the table next to her to support her as she stood back up. Her cheeks were pink as she giggled and tried to cover her mouth with her hand that was holding the beer.
Virginia Welch was trying to reinvent herself to snag the richest guy in town.
“Case,” Hall began in a semi-authoritative way. If this was some petty girl thing then it was not very becoming. He shifted his weight and was about to scold her when she held up her hand and looked at him, actual tears in her eyes.
“Oh, stop, oh, okay,” she giggled, words coming out in gushes of air as she tried to compose herself. “Oh shit, I haven’t laughed like that since graduation.”
He set his beer on the counter and stepped towards her in irritation. She didn’t even back away and look up at him with those scared green eyes. She actually put a hand on his chest and continued giggling, shaking her head like she knew he wanted her to stop but she just couldn’t. He glared down at her hand in the middle of his chest, then sighed heavily and put a hand on his hip, waiting for an explanation.
“Sorry,” she huffed, taking her hand back and wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, really. Hall… it’s just… look, aw man, where do I begin?”
“Just start talking,” he growled, wondering now if she was laughing at him, too.
Nodding, she swallowed more beer to soothe her throat and looked up at him.
“Okay, let’s start at your first proclamation. Virginia not being a drinker? How much time have you actually spent with her, Hall?”
“I told you,” he replied, turning for the fridge in annoyance and grabbing two more beers. He opened one and set it on the table for her, then opened his and took a long sip. “You want a number? Two dinners and three desserts, over a span of three months or so.”
Case grabbed the beer off the table as she leaned against it. She really didn’t like the idea of him spending time with her, but she’d just been too diverted by his impression of her to really let that jealous emotion sink in. “Okay, dude, I know she’s been acting a certain way around you, but… and this research goes as far back as 6th grade to as recently as this past Christmas break… she drinks.”
“Well, everyone drinks.”
“No, no,” she huffed, holding up her hand. “You and I, we drink. Virginia? She blacks out. If we were the Brat Pack, I’d be Molly Ringwald, you’d be Emilio Estevez, and she’d be Robert Downey Jr.’s drunken whore who hangs around the set and is too wasted to even know her own name.”
“That’s enough, Case,” Hall frowned, finding the analogy worrisome as he attempted to be firm.
“Next, I think you called her sweet,” she continued, swigging her beer. “How’s this for sweet? When I came home for Thanksgiving my Freshman year, she and her crony cheerleader bitches grabbed me out of the bathroom at the football game, tore off my clothes, wrote the charming words Hymen Intact, Please Bust and tossed me into the boys’ locker room. The whole football team was in there. Those assholes still ask me if they can help me with my virginity situation.”
Hall pressed his lips together as he sat on the bench at the end of the long, wooden table. That couldn’t be true. Virginia seemed so normal and subdued most of the time. He was having a hard time believing Case. Was she just lying out of some weird jealousy thing or some kind of power play, maybe?
“Uh, next, I think you said simple,” Case nodded, closing one eye and looking up as she tried to remember. “Yeah, simple. Virginia Welch is simple. What kind of purse does she carry?”
“Uh, I don’t…”
“You’re dating aren’t you?” she snapped, frowning.
“No, we’re not, and it’s just a purse.”
“Navy or some dark color, textured, with leather trim and a drawstring?” she smirked.
“Yeah, actually, that sounds…”
“Yeah, that’s a Dooney and Burke. Her daddy bought that one for her. What you don’t know is that she stole everyone’s Dooney and Burkes and King Ranch purses from their lockers and tossed them across the highway because she wanted to be the only one who had a navy drawstring purse. Ask Tizzy, she took hers, too. And while we’re on the topic of stealing, she used to buy the kegs at every party, including the big Christmas party at the Hanover’s, and brag that she’d taken the money from her dad’s bank.”
Hall took a deep breath and rubbed his neck. Case slid into the seat opposite him and kept her eyes on him. It really didn’t look like she was making any of this up. They both quickly swigged their beer.
“Last,” she sighed, running her thumb along the condensation on the can and staring at it. “Last, you called her small town. She’s so the opposite of small town it’s… well, why do you think she hated me so much? I got out, got to go away to boarding school. She couldn’t even get into UT. She hates this place so much that she was one who started the fire in the cotton fields four years ago.”
Hall pushed off the table and stood up, the bench scraping against the hardwood floor as it was forced backwards from his legs. He raised a finger and shook his head at her. “That is not true! That’s not even close to being funny! That cotton farm was this town’s lifeline! The Harts had to leave town after that! They lost everything.”
Case stood up and pressed her hands flat on the table, leaning over and glaring up at him, cheeks flushed with anger. “And who do you think chuckled and snorted as she tossed her cigarettes, one after another, into the field by the highway as she made us sit on our knees and shoot tequila out of the football player’s hands as a hazing ritual the summer after 8th grade? That would have been 1985. Particularly dry year, don’t you think?”
Utter disbelief spread across his face as he peered down at her. She looked so… angry. He felt like he should be angry but more than anything he felt empathy. He’d endured his fair share of teasing growing up, he had been a fat rich kid, but it was nothing like that. He also thought he should have felt betrayal about Virginia’s reality but he just… didn’t. Honestly, he re
ally didn’t feel a thing for her. He had just asked her out because she was the only good-looking girl who was age appropriate.
“S-sorry,” Case suddenly said in a quiet voice, looking down at the table and rubbing her hands nervously. “I didn’t mean for all of that to come out as something against you. She’s just… no good for you.”
“Well, Jesus, you seem to know better than anyone,” he replied, sighing and wishing that she wouldn’t apologize. It really seemed like she was just trying to look out for him.
“You have no idea,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes and then turning back to her hands.
He frowned as he stood next to the table. “What, is there more?”
“It’s not important,” she softly said, eyes down.
“Tell me.”
“It’s nothing,” she replied, trying to sound annoyed. She suddenly squealed as he grabbed her under her arms and slammed her down on the tabletop. Now eye level with his chin, she slowly turned her gaze up to his irritated blue eyes. Oh, he didn’t like things being kept from him. She bit her lip, wondering how to proceed.
“Well?” he hissed.
“She… she, um…”
“I can count to five,” he offered, folding his arms across his chest. She was hiding something big from him and he was not amused.
God, his arms flexed when he stood like that. It was so distracting. She shook her head and closed her eyes, turning her head down. “She had sex with Jackson and faked a pregnancy to try and get his money so that she could move away,” Case whispered, somehow ashamed. Ashamed for her brother, for her gender, for keeping it a secret between herself and Jackson, who knew the reason? She just felt the shame in her gut.
“Hey,” he said, watching her curiously, as she hung her head as if she’d been the one who’d done something wrong. He really hated that he found that so engaging. He wanted her to look up at him again. “Hey,” he repeated with more force.
She couldn’t look at him, not yet. She’d made him angry. His hands suddenly came into her line of vision, taking hold of hers. Finally, she peered up at him.
