by Ava Walsh
“It’s a pity your folks never brought you here before. It must be strange and new for you to come to Klaire now. You must be so used to the city.” Rose seemed like the kind of person who couldn’t stop talking. Teresa smiled and wondered who Rose spoke to all day. She had been living by herself in the cottage for several decades.
Rose wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist and stretched out her arms towards Teresa’s bags.
“No, it’s fine, Rose. Thank you,” Teresa said, forcing a smile onto her face as she dragged the bags towards the porch. She knew that a lot of mud was sticking to the bottom of their wheels, but she didn’t want to think about it now. For now, she wanted to get into the house, change out of her clothes, take off the heels and clean herself. She felt like she was completely covered in dust, even though she couldn’t see it.
Rose led the way up the handful of steps and then held the wire-mesh front door open. Teresa pulled the bags in, and for the first time, stepped into the house that her father had grown up in. It looked like time had stopped in there. An old, fading, paisley couch in the living room, a dilapidated fireplace with small, porcelain figurines on the mantelpiece, a small, round, wooden table, blue, wooden cabinets in the kitchen, a refrigerator of the likes that she had only seen in films from the 1970’s, a carpet that needed a thorough beating and low lighting throughout the house. Teresa tried to take it all in, her eyes sweeping around the house as she popped her head into all the rooms.
“How long have you lived here, Rose?” Teresa asked, after several minutes of silently surveying the house.
“Since I was fifteen. Your father’s parents passed away and then their children started leaving the place one by one, until nobody was left to take care of the house. Your father asked me to stay, so I did.” Rose had hobbled into the kitchen now. She started stirring the two pots on an old-fashioned stove, and Teresa stood in the hallway, leaning on the wall.
“You never left Klaire?” she asked, in shock. How could anybody live here all their lives?
“Why would I? This is my home. I’m sure your father felt the same way, because he never wanted to sell this place,” Rose said. She wasn’t looking at Teresa anymore, although a smile still lingered on her face.
“I suppose so. Although he wanted me to sell it now. Now that he’s gone.” Teresa crossed her arms and looked around the house. She couldn’t imagine her father and his five siblings growing up in this house. It seemed to be as big as her own apartment.
“Well, that is your choice, dear. It’s your house now.” Rose continued stirring the food in the two pots. Teresa bit down on her lip, realization striking home.
“What would you do if I sold the house, Rose?” she asked, dreading to see a look of fear or apprehension on the kindly old lady’s face.
“Oh don’t worry about me. Mr. Mason has insisted that I stay on and look after the place. I don’t think he plans on doing anything with the house, other than using the farms and the ranch.” Rose was smiling still. To Teresa’s surprise, she didn’t look upset.
“Mr. Mason? You mean the man who is going to buy it? Did he say that? That’s very nice of him to offer that to you,” Teresa said, relieved that she was not going to be responsible for Rose’s destitution. She might never have been able to sell the house in that case, if it meant that the lady who had lived in this house for sixty years by herself would be homeless as a result of it.
“Oh, yes! Mr. Mason is very nice. I don’t listen to what the other townsfolk have to say about him. He has always been nothing but kind to me.” Rose finally turned to look at her.
“What do the others have to say about him?” Teresa walked over to the table in the kitchen, sitting down gently. She was relieved to give her feet some rest and she bent over to pull the zip down on her boots.
Rose was tinkering about, trying to arrange clean plates for the food she had prepared for them.
“Don’t listen to all that gossip. They don’t know him and just talk, all of them,” Rose said, with her back turned to Teresa.
“But what has he done to provoke that?” Teresa pulled the boots off her feet and wriggled her toes around in the open air. The copper colored nail polish suited her complexion, she thought, as her mind drifted for a second.
“Nothing. He bought that big ranch and moved into the Miller Mansion a few years ago and that set all their tongues wagging. They think he’s too young, they’re too unsure of him. He doesn’t talk much and keeps himself to himself, so it just gives them fuel for their fire.” Rose was chattering away as she started placing the two plates full of mash and a creamy pile of spaghetti in front of Teresa.
Teresa’s brows furrowed. The man who Rose was describing sounded dreadful like…was it him?
“Does this Mr. Mason wear a cowboy hat and have blue eyes?” Teresa asked. Rose scrunched up her face to think.
“I can’t say that I’ve noticed his eyes. But he wears a hat, surely,” she said with a laugh. Teresa wasn’t in the mood to laugh.
“Is his name Derek?” She probed Rose again and the older woman’s face lit up.
“Yes, Derek Mason. That’s him. Have you met him already?” Rose sat down on the chair opposite Teresa, pushing her plate towards her. She wasn’t sure if she was hungry and Rose didn’t ask, but Teresa was glad to have something to do with her hands, to keep herself distracted. She didn’t want Rose to see how the latest news had affected her.
“Yes, briefly. At the gas station outside town.” Teresa looked away from Rose’s curious eyes and focused on the food on her plate instead.
“Oh, Barney’s shop? That’s a curious coincidence, isn’t it?” Rose was the first one to dig into the food. Teresa reluctantly followed. This was not the kind of food that she was used to. A plate of sushi or a Caesar salad were usually her weekday dinner meal options.
“Yes, it is. So he didn’t know my family from before?” Teresa asked, still curious about Derek Mason. Rose shook her head vigorously.
“No, how could he? He only arrived in town a few years ago himself. He’s the son of some rich politician in Austin. Nobody knows why he moved here. But he sure has the money.” Rose was enjoying her food and made loud slurping sounds with the food as she ate. Teresa couldn’t help but smile at her. It hadn’t been more than half an hour since she’d met this woman, but she already felt like they were related, that they’d known each other for years and she was the grandmother Teresa had never had. It warmed her heart to watch Rose eat as freely and happily as she did.
“That is strange,” Teresa mumbled, her thoughts flying back to Derek Mason’s story. It was no wonder that the people in Klaire found him strange. From the few minutes of experience that she’d had with him in the afternoon, it was enough to convince her that he was a mysterious man.
“How often has he come around to our ranch?” Teresa asked, twirling her spaghetti on the plate. She put a small portion of it into her mouth and chewed. It was absolutely delicious.
“A couple of times, especially after I spread the word that you were planning on selling it,” Rose replied. “In fact, he might come tomorrow, he said, to meet you and discuss the details of it with you.” Teresa’s breath caught in her throat. Just the suggestion of the prospect of seeing him again was enough to make her palms sweaty. Had he known in the diner who she was? Or was that the way he behaved with everybody new?
“It’s a good thing then that you’ve met already. I won’t need to make formal introductions.” Rose laughed. Teresa smiled in response and continued eating. She wasn’t prepared to see him again so soon. Was he going to talk to her this time? She didn’t even know what he sounded like. More importantly, why was she feeling this way about a man she had seen for a few minutes and who hadn’t said a word to her?
“So tell me about the big city, Teresa. What kind of work do you do?” Rose asked, interrupting Teresa’s thoughts about Derek Mason. Teresa continued eating and tried to explain to Rose exactly what she did for a living.
An hour went by with the two of them at the dining table. Rose told her stories about Teresa’s family, her father’s childhood and about the few times she had met Teresa’s mother. They were stories her own parents had never told her.
As darkness engulfed the little cottage, Teresa looked out of the window towards the lightless range around them. Rose was cleaning up the dishes.
“I promise I’ll help you clean up tomorrow, Rose. I didn’t mean to be so ill-mannered. I’m just very tired today,” Teresa said, turning to the older lady with an apologetic look.
Chapter Three
Teresa woke up the next morning with the sun pouring into the room. She was sleeping on the lower bunk bed of her father’s old bedroom and she had barely caught a wink that night. She couldn’t stop imagining how her father’s life at the ranch in this small house would have been. What her own life might have looked like if her father never left Klaire. Some framed photographs of her father and his siblings lay hanging from the walls and she was glad that Rose made sure they were dusted and clean.
The bathroom was down the hall and Teresa climbed out of bed, tightened her robe around her torso and stepped out of the room in a daze.
“Good morning, Teresa. You have a visitor.” She heard Rose’s voice from the kitchen at the end of the hallway, and forced herself to widen her eyes. Derek Mason was sitting at the table with Rose, with a cup of coffee in his hands.
Teresa’s first reaction was to reach for the folds of her robe and clutch them to her neck. She’d slept in her underwear the previous night, the heat making it unbearable for her to sleep in anything else, and now she was acutely aware of feeling naked under her robe.
Derek’s eyes were on her again, with that same fierce stare as before. He tipped his hat at her and she tried to collect herself.
“Morning, Rose. I’ll join you in a few minutes,” she mumbled, and rushed into the bathroom next door, slamming the door shut behind her.
It was barely nine in the morning, what was he doing at their house this early? She splashed water on her face and fumbled around for her toothbrush, which she’d placed in the medicine cabinet the night before. While she brushed she stared at herself. She looked tired and sleepy. Her hair was a mess, she had no makeup on and she was practically naked. She washed her mouth and gingerly opened the bathroom door again. When she peeked out from behind the door, she saw Derek sitting still and looking at Rose while the older woman spoke fervently.
Teresa took the opportunity to slip out and dash into the bedroom. She didn’t want him to see her in that sorry state again. In a few quick steps, Teresa had the entire contents of both of her bags sprawled on the floor. She didn’t know what to wear. What would be appropriate and make him forget the early morning, un-brushed image of her?
She settled on a pair of skinny blue jeans, which she knew accentuated her curves, and a thin orange blouse, perfect for the weather. She wasn’t sure how she was going to be able to manage her hair without its daily routine and still look decent, so she quickly tied it in a short ponytail behind her head, aware it wouldn’t last longer than half an hour. Already, several strands of tight curls had sprung out from the ponytail and rested around her face.
She only gave herself time for a coat of a coral lipstick and some eyeliner and then she hurried over to the door, placing her hand on the cold knob before turning it. She breathed in and out to steady her nerves when the thought struck her…why was she nervous in the first place? She conducted meetings at work, held conferences, gave interviews, took interviews. She was good with people, good at negotiations. Why was meeting this cowboy in a small town in Texas making her so nervous?
Teresa straightened her back, breathed in deeply and stepped out of the room. She walked slowly down the hallway, pasting a polite smile on her face. She watched as Derek turned from Rose to look at her. His blue eyes were even steelier today, and his jaw was straight and serious. There was no smile on his face, only a look of deep concentration as he watching her walk down towards him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Mason.” Teresa stretched out her hand towards him as Rose sprang from her chair to get her a cup of coffee.
Teresa watched as he slowly, almost against his will, reached over and caught her hand. His grip was as strong as steel, and she felt like her hand was being crushed by his, but only for a few seconds. Then his hand was back in position again, on the table.
She still hadn’t heard his voice.
“So, Rose tells me that you’re interested in the property?” Teresa said, pulling out a chair opposite him and turning her gaze away from him. His glare was too much to bear, she needed a break from it. Derek was silent still as he watched her settle down into her chair.
“Yes. I am.” He finally spoke and his voice cut through Teresa’s soul like a sharp knife. She was almost taken aback by it. Deep, smooth and effective, his voice almost didn’t belong to his face. He was too young to have a voice like that. She had a quick daydream of watching him on a podium delivering a victory speech to the citizens of the country. She nearly smiled at that.
But he was still staring at her.
“We met at the gas station yesterday,” she said, trying to keep the flow of conversation going.
“Yes. I remember,” he replied, as Rose came over to the table with a cup of coffee for Teresa.
“Of course, I didn’t know who you were. I would have introduced myself otherwise,” Teresa said, adding a polite chuckle in the midst. Rose laughed at that, thankfully, but Derek only looked.
“When can you sign the property over?” he suddenly asked, taking Teresa by surprise. Again, his voice had a paralyzing effect on her, and the straightforwardness of his question threw her off as well.
“Well…” she began, exchanging looks with Rose, who didn’t seem to catch on to Derek’s strangeness. “I was hoping to spend some time in Klaire, perhaps a couple of weeks. I’m on holiday, you see.” Teresa chuckled again and took a sip of her coffee. Derek didn’t share her laugh, although Rose did. He was watching her every move, his eyes focusing on her lips where they rested on the rim of the cup.
“Let me know when you’re ready. I’m ready whenever you are,” he said, and tipped his hat to her. He stood up suddenly, and Teresa was surprised again.
“Are you leaving?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Derek hovered over her, looking down at her face as she craned her neck to look up at him. She could see the broadness of his neck now, a spray of curly golden hair peeping through from the neck of his plaid shirt. He licked his lips and suddenly smiled.
The smile was broad, spreading all over his face and dimpling his cheeks deeply. Teresa hadn’t expected a smile like that. It made him look like a teenager, as opposed to the rugged cowboy he looked like when he wasn’t smiling.
“Did you want me to stay, Ms. Fontaine?” he asked, and Teresa could hear her heart beating. She was worried it was too loud. Derek was still smiling, and Teresa was tongue-tied. How was she supposed to answer that question? How could she get her confidence back around him to be the woman she usually was with others?
“I was hoping to give you a little tour of the property before you buy it,” she managed to say, placing her coffee cup back on the table. This gave her a chance to look away from him and regain her composure.
This time, Derek laughed. It was a soft short laugh that made his shoulders shake.
“I might have to give you a tour first, Ms. Fontaine. Isn’t this your first time here?” The laugh was still in his voice. Teresa felt her gut drop. She had never felt more embarrassed. He had a laugh in his voice but his eyes were fierce, and he was still standing over her and glaring directly down at her face. She felt stupid, excited, silly and desperate all at the same time.
Teresa bit down on her lip instead of saying something.
“Maybe I’ll show you around the next time you’re here,” he added, before turning around and walking over to the sink to run water into his emp
ty coffee cup. Teresa was dumbfounded and embarrassed. She could feel her ears growing hot. She felt insulted by his last statement. Whatever it was, this was her family property and he was buying it from her. Derek Mason was treating her like a spoilt city girl who didn’t know what she was doing.
Rose’s voice interrupted her raging thoughts.
“Have a good day, Mr. Mason. Come for coffee whenever you like. I’m sure we would like to see you again.” Rose was still sitting and smiling as Derek turned to look at them. The smile on his face remained as he wiped his hands on the kitchen towel. He had washed and wiped his cup dry already.
“I’d be delighted, Rose,” he said, a certain lilt in his voice this time like he was continuing to indirectly mock Teresa.
Teresa stood up with a jerk and his eyes swung over to her from Rose. For the first time, she realized how much taller than her he was, but Teresa tried to maintain her resolve.
“Thank you for visiting, Mr. Mason. Please do call in some time. I’d like prior notice before you do, though,” she said as curtly as possible, and then turned on her heel to walk to the front door, which she held open.
Derek sighed loudly, like he was dealing with a small child, and then slowly walked over to the door. He tipped his hat at her and passed her a soft half-grin. His eyes were fierce and blue and glaring again, and Teresa tried hard to not flinch. She wanted to confidently hold his gaze, no matter how difficult that was to do.
“Good day, Ms. Fontaine,” he said gruffly, and walked out of the door towards the bike that he had parked next to her car. Teresa watched him walk for a few seconds and then flung the door shut. It rattled into place and Rose looked up at her with a start.
“I hate that man,” Teresa said, placing her hands on her broad hips as she turned to face Rose. She was fuming, and she could feel her rage against him rising. How dare he try to school her? How dare he look at her like she was a child? This property belonged to her family, and he might be living in Klaire, but this house and ranch would never belong to him unless he asked nicely, no matter how much money he had.
