The Country Duet

by HJ Bellus

  “Night, Frank.” I write down my hours and walk into the office.

  A dim light radiates from Teale’s desk. Her head is down, her face is entranced by whatever is on her MacBook. I fold my arms over my chest, studying her for long seductive seconds. There’s no mistaking the concern and worry coating her features. I know she does the books for her Dad while going to nursing school part-time. It makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with the shop. Immediately, I feel like shit for filling out my time card for tonight’s work. Business is business and Frank isn’t making ends meet so I’m not going to volunteer my time, but I would to take that look off of Teale’s face.

  “Your momma ever teach you that staring is rude?”

  My vision focuses in, only to realize Teale is staring up at me and the lid to her MacBook is closed. I shrug, not answering her, struck by the sweet dimples that frame her smile.

  “How’s your nutskis?” She smirks.

  I shake my head and walk closer to her. “You have a book with corny dick jokes?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugs.

  My stomach decides to take part in the conversation by growling loudly.

  “You hungry?” I ask on a whim.

  “Not really.” She stands up slowly with her black skinny jeans hugging those legs perfectly. “But I could use a friend right now.”

  “You ninja kick a guy in the nuts and now we’re friend status?”

  “I get it if you can’t roll with a badass like me.” She walks beside me out to my truck.

  “Hop in, and I’ll begin lessons on earning my badass badge from Teale University.”

  She giggles, jumping in, but as soon I start driving her sorrow seeps right back in. She said she needed a friend and I’ve learned over the years that sometimes silence is the best comfort when with a friend.

  “Only joint open.” I pull into Denny’s.

  “It’s fine. I mean, it’s nearly midnight so you can’t expect much, and at least we will beat the drunks from campus.”

  “Not much of a party goer?” I ask her as I hold the door of the restaurant open for her.

  It strikes me that I know nearly nothing about Teale, besides she drives like a bat out of hell and has a whole dictionary of terms for a guy’s genitals.

  “In high school, but grew out of that phase quickly.”

  We follow the hostess to a corner booth, settling in on opposite sides.

  “You grow up around here?” I ask her.

  “You writing a damn book?” she spits back quickly.

  “Yep, and I’m not into mysteries.”

  The waitress interrupts us, taking our drink orders. It’s not very gentleman like, but I swear my little gut is eating my big one right now, so I order mozzarella sticks and a chicken fried steak right after my drink order.

  Teale orders a coffee, then begins picking at her over-sized, baby blue sweater.

  “Grew up in California with my mom. Just recently moved back here with my Dad.” She peers up to me. “They divorced when I was sixteen. Dad moved here, transplanting his business. I was always in his shop growing up back in California.”

  So many questions want to spill from me, but I sense Teale doesn’t want to talk about it. A broken home is something I’d never be able to relate to anyway.

  “I grew up in a small town in Southern Idaho. Have two younger sisters and was raised on Sweetwater Ranch.”

  “Let me guess.” Teale sits up a little taller with excitement, since the heat is off her. “Star quarterback, hometown hero, and all around good guy?”

  I smirk. “Close. Safety all-star, three-time State Champions, hometown hero, and all around good guy who’s handsome as hell.”

  This earns me a good belly laugh from Teale. “I mean, you’re not humble at all!”

  I smile wide. “Look at these dimples and sparkling blue eyes, I mean, really? I’m damn near irresistible, and you haven’t even seen the gun show yet.”

  “Fine. You’re not doing too shabby in the looks department. And the gun show? Do I even want to ask?”

  “You either. I’m selling tickets next week to the gun show if you want in,” I reply, taking a drink from my soda. “I was just teasing about my looks. Believe it or not, I am pretty down to earth.”

  She points at my drink. “Did you know that Mountain Dew makes your nuts shrink?”

  Thank God, I just swallowed my last drink or she’d be wearing it. We chat for the next hour with most of the conversation revolving around me. She peppers me with questions about horses, cattle, and if cowboys really wear spurs. It’s easy to talk about ranch life. Teale’s not wanting to open up and I’m fine with that.

  “You always want to be a nurse?” I ask on the drive back to the shop.

  “Meh. Not really. It’s a great occupation with lots of possibilities.”

  “If you could be anything you wanted, then what would it be?” I ask her.

  “To erase the person who got me here today.”

  That admission takes my breath away. I don’t push or pry. We ride in silence the rest of the way to the shop. Teale jumps from the truck, turning back to me with a kind smile.

  “Thanks, Hunter, really needed a friend tonight.” Her smile is there, but a lonely one. “And hope your jiblets make it to live another day.”

  I smile the whole way back to my apartment.

  Chapter 5

  Hunter

  “Success is having to worry about every damn thing in the world, except money.”

  -Johnny Cash

  I saunter out into our tiny kitchenette to find a barely dressed blonde, slurping from a bowl. Then I spot the empty box of my Cinnamon Toast Crunch laying on the table next to her. My fucking cereal.

  “Hey, man.” Burton slaps me on my back, waltzing by with only a towel wrapped low around his waist.

  “You’re still wet.” The blonde giggles, leaping up into Burton’s arms and ditching her bowl of cereal.

  My heart dies with each beat, knowing that my cereal is dying a slow, soggy death thanks to Burton and his new bimbo.

  “I have two finals, then we can leave around five tonight?” I ask Burton.

  “Berty boy, is going home with me today,” the blonde announces.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, man, going home with Hailey to meet the parents.” He gropes her ass.

  “Jesus, man, you only have a towel on. Tap that shit down.” I turn to the fridge hoping there’s a protein shake left. “And you have two finals today.”

  “He’s dropping out.”

  Those three words make me whirl around.

  “What did you say?” I run my hands through my messy hair.

  Hailey jumps up squealing, clapping her hands together. “Burton is dropping out with me. We are going back to live on his ranch, but we are meeting my parents first to share the news. I’ve always wanted to be just like Dolly Parton, and now Berty is making my dreams come true.”

  A slow, victorious smile spreads across my face. “So, you’re not spending Christmas with your parents?”

  “They’re going on their yearly cruise and would only be home a few days anyway.”

  “Who’s heading up the ranch then?” I ask.

  “Mitch. They have a head foreman for a reason.”

  “Oh, look.” Enough oxygen must have made it to Hailey’s brain. “He proposed.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, man?” I roar.

  I knew he had been tapping the same ass for nearly two weeks now, but a ring?

  “Don’t,” Burton warns.

  I throw my hands up in the air, knowing for certain I have waltzed into the twilight zone here. “I’ll check in on my new baby while I’m home.”

  “You have a baby,” Hailey squeals, clapping again.

  I’m starting to think that the art of clapping is her biggest accomplishment in life.

  “I do now. Thanks to you.”

  “Bullshit,” Burton protests. “I made it th
ree semesters.”

  “Failing your finals is the nail in your coffin, buddy.” I stride past Burton, paying him with his own signature back slap.

  It’s worthless to talk any sense into him. He’s had his eyes set on going back for a long while now. Part of me is jealous of him. The ranch will always be my first love. I smile the whole time I’m showering, knowing I’m another horse richer.

  Finals were a breeze like I knew they’d be. I surprised Dave by setting him up with the Meals on Wheels program so he’d have some home cooked food coming to his house, as well as researching other agencies that could help him. He’s absolutely against leaving his farm, and it’s a topic I’ve learned to never even breech.

  The bell to the shop office dings loudly. Teale’s head springs up from a pile of paperwork. Her smile is welcoming, making me feel more than I should. Our schedules don’t seem to match up often. I’ve missed her like crazy even though I’ve never really had her. Somehow she weaseled her way into my life and thoughts from the moment I spotted her on the side of the road.

  “Mr. Fix It, what’s up? Figured you’d be off after your last final.” Teale stands, walking toward me.

  A pang of hunger deep down stirs up in me. Her damn signature skinny jeans, paired with a bulky sweater and knee-high boots turn me on. Don’t even get me started on that hair piled up high on her head, messy as hell. My fingers itch to pull her hair from the band holding it together and watch it tumble over her shoulders. Not one stitch of makeup and her face is striking. I’m over fighting the feelings and sending the friend zone straight out the fucking window.

  I hold out the wrapped package. “Wanted to give this to you before I left.”

  “Hunter.” Her eyes go wide in shock.

  “Just something little I thought you’d like.”

  She takes it with shaky fingers.

  “You okay, Teale?” I step in closer, inhaling her sweet scent then cup her cheek.

  My touch takes her by surprise. When our gazes connect, hers is sad, happy, dark, and light, confusing the fuck out of me. I don’t hesitate or think twice about my next move. I lean in, soaking in her scent and branding it to my memory before my lips skim across hers.

  The sensation lights something inside of me. I lick my lips, wetting them before pressing all the way into hers. Teale doesn’t kiss me back, but I don’t need her to. I’ve been too damn curious about what her lips would feel like on mine. I’m taking something I want. I pull away quickly, getting exactly what I needed.

  Teale squeezes her eyes shut, inhaling sharply. “Hunter.”

  She opens her eyes and this time there’s no doubt they’re clouded with lust and wanting. She moves next, leaning in and mimicking my actions. Her full lips that have my taste lingering on them press into mine. I don’t kiss her back. I stand still, exhilarated by the feel of her.

  Teale darts her tongue out, swiping the length of my lips. It’s then I open up for her and that inevitable dam bursts between us. My hand clutched in a fist at my side darts up to her hair, gripping it, pulling her closer to me. Our bodies are pressed together so tightly, we fall even harder into our kiss.

  We break apart but keep our lips touching. “Merry Christmas, Teale.”

  “You mean early Merry Christmas,” she whispers back.

  I smile on her plump lips, craving more. “Yes, early Merry Christmas.”

  The door leading to the shop swings open, and we jump apart. Our moment is shattered with the intrusion of Kelly, one of the mechanics. I walk backward slowly, never breaking eye contact until I climb in my truck. The roar of the engine filling the empty parking lot is the only sound besides my pounding heart.

  “Hunter.” I look over to Teale waving something in the air with her hand cupped around her mouth.

  When we make eye contact, she holds up the book I bought her and mouths thank you. My window rolls down, and I smile at the crazy girl.

  “You were supposed to wait until Christmas morning.”

  She races up to my truck, hops up on the running board, leans in, and kisses me quickly. “I love it.”

  Teale backs away, keeping the book clutched to her chest. I knew I wanted to get her something for Christmas, but knowing practically nothing about her, it was harder than I thought. For some odd reason, an advertisement for a naughty drawing game came up titled, “Draw a Dick On It.” I don't even have a clue what the whole book is about, but it was perfect for our inside joke and my little walking dick dictionary Teale.

  ***

  “You do what for Dave?” My mom’s jaw drops wide open.

  “He needs the help, Mom.”

  “Hunter.” She stands up, pissed off and growing red in the face. “We told you that we’d put money in your account and wanted you to focus on school, and now you’re working two jobs and doing shit no adult would even do.”

  “Blair,” Dad warns from his seat at the head of the table.

  “Hunter, you searched for months getting enough scholarships to cover your tuition at the University of Idaho during your senior of high school. You've always held a 4.0 and have worked your ass off on the ranch. And you seriously think it’s okay to be working two jobs?”

  “Mom, it’s a couple of part-time jobs. You’re acting like I’m robbing banks and murdering puppies.”

  My mom falls back into her chair. “But would it be a crime to just enjoy life, Hunter?”

  “Blair.” Dad’s no-nonsense voice fills the dining room table. “Remember it’s me who’s supposed to be kicking his ass. After hearing about this Dave character, I’m damn proud of you, Hunter.”

  “Bradley, no one asked your opinion.” Mom shoots Dad her signature sideways glare.

  Blair Yates is my biggest advocate and protector. Mom will never understand my drive, and in quiet times I don’t even understand it myself. It’s a curse the wild country instilled in me. The drive inside me is too stubborn to quit.

  Abby, also known as hell on wheels, in her annoying fashion, breaks up the tension. She’s the youngest and always tests Dad and Mom’s patience. She lifts her one leg and then lets the loudest fart rip. It’s a juicy and ripe one that would put any cowboy to shame.

  It’s in Mom and Dad’s glares they share with each other that I know I’m the least of their problems. Abby is the youngest of us three and giving my parents a run for their money. She could get away with murder with a perfected smile and bat of her eyes.

  “You need to whip her ass.” I shove in a bite of food. “I would’ve been whipped and tossed out in the barn to muck stalls if I ever did that.”

  “Hunter.” Mom plops her elbows on the table. “We’re tired. One day you’ll understand the theory behind picking your battles.”

  Quinn, the middle child, is fifteen and Abby is seven; there’s quite a huge age difference, so I understand Mom being tired.

  It’s then Abby decides to go on a rampage about the newest drama in third grade. All I can do is sit back and relax. Even if the little shit is annoying as hell, it feels good to be home. I wait for the Abby show to subside before talking about the ranch with Dad. Our conversation leads to Dave.

  “Go on.” My dad encourages me.

  “Dave’s in terrible shape, barely able to get around and with no help. He has no children or family. I went into his room to change out the light bulb, and he had piss bottles everywhere.”

  Mom’s jaw drops while Dad remains stoic during the story.

  “I’ve been trying to keep my grades up, work, and help him out. He needs someone there for him.” I scrub my face with my palms. “He’s an ornery old bastard, but I worry about him. He needs someone taking care of him around the clock. I’ve brought up nursing homes, but that was a dead end.”

  Dad’s the first one to speak up. “Son, now I know your uncle is the God fearing guy in this family, but it doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God and have faith. I can tell you one thing and that is Dave was put in your life for a reason. All you can do is be there for him, but
don’t lose yourself in the process.”

  “I worry about you, son. Your heart is too big for this ugly world,” Mom adds.

  Rolling storms of emotions attack me. “It just hurts to see Dave with a sane mind, but a body failing him. He loves that ranch. He has told me story after story about how his old man built the house he lives in and grew up there.”

  “Like I said, Hunter, God put Dave in your life for a reason. Know we will always be here for you.”

  I remember the tingling sensation that shot up my spine the day I knocked on Dave’s door. I was there for a reason…only if I knew why then, the picture might be clear. It’s beginning to become a murky gray.

  I digest their advice and wish I’d come to my parents before now. I know better, but out in the real world is so different from life on the Sweetwater Ranch. It feels good to be home—actually perfect. It’s just what I’ve needed.

  Dad stands up with his empty plate. “Moving the herd tomorrow. Be up and ready at dawn.”

  I nod toward him and then head outside for a walk. December in Idaho isn’t ideal weather, but it’s an abnormally warm evening. Warm as in, a brisk twenty-five degrees with no wind. Nothing my Carhartt coat can’t handle. I go to my truck and decide on going for a drive down to the pond.

  The night air is clearing my mind and making all of me aware and alive. George Straight blaring from the cab of my Dodge truck and the cold beer in my hand are what I consider paradise. Pure perfection. The cowboy way. This might be the first time I’ve been down here with a case of beer and no Burton. It’s a bittersweet feeling knowing our lives are going in separate directions. We’ve been best friends since birth.

  Our neighboring ranches were the perfect scene to play non-stop. It never hurt that our families have always been best friends. Our crew always at their place on branding days, and vice versa. Remembering the day our dads gave us our first pocket knives, we spent hours cutting bailing twine and random shit like kings on top of the world. We shot our first bucks on the same hunting trip and also shared lots of whippings over the years.