Rachael did elbow him in the side when he said this last part. “So you heard about the driving lessons?” Rachael now laughed too.
“Yep. Your mother got the name of the instructor from my mom. Maysie needed some lessons too. Not me, of course.” He wiggled a brow at her. “Anyhow, we need to start planning for a vehicle.”
“I already have a plan, thank you.”
“And what is that?”
“I’m going to work on your family’s ranch for the next several months and save for a car.”
“I think that is a good idea, and I know my father offered you a job. But I thought after the other day you wouldn’t want to come back,” he teased. “My dad did try to kill you after all.”
“I’m tougher than you think, Travis Baxter, and I’m going to prove it.”
“Okay. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you with other options.”
“Nope. I can do this. I will do this. On my own.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Travis sounded stern, but merriment danced in his eyes as he gazed at her.
11
ON SATURDAY MORNING RACHAEL WAS UP BRIGHT AND EARLY to go to work on the Baxter Ranch.
Please let today go a little bit better…and faster.
Rachael left for work with her Aunt Margaret and mom. They had to be out to their jobs at the beach resort early and offered to drop her each Saturday. Michael planned on staying around the house for the day. He was fourteen now and could fend for himself. When Rachael arrived at the Baxter house, she was not surprised to see the porch lights were on, even though it was an hour before dawn.
Darn these country people. Doesn’t anyone around here ever sleep in?
Rachael lifted her hand to knock on the front door, but before she could knock, Mr. Baxter was there with a cup of coffee in hand.
“Come in, Rachael, and have some breakfast.”
Rachael walked in not saying a word. She really didn’t know Mr. Baxter all that well. When she had met him briefly last year, he seemed so jovial and fun-loving. Then after the other day’s fun-filled working experience where she thought he couldn’t care less if she lived or died, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it’s only his gruff exterior…some sort of tough love, redneck style discipline. Who knows?
Rachael was seated at the table when Mr. Baxter brought her a biscuit, jelly, and a cup of coffee. Is he waiting on me?
“I’ve got a shot of whiskey I can put in that coffee for you if you need it.” Humor creased the corners of his eyes.
“No, sir. My drinking days are done. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Good. Today we are going to be building black board fences. We’ll have to get you a long-sleeved shirt to put on over your tank top.”
I know he’s religious, but come on! It’s not like I’m naked or anything. It’s just a tank top.
“Won’t that be a little hot?”
It was in the low eighties still in Florida this time of year. After last weekend’s experience, where she had to resort to cutting her clothes off, Rachael didn’t know if she could handle another hot day.
“Yes. It will be warm, but the thing is, if you don’t wear the long sleeves and gloves, the creosote used to treat the lumber will burn your skin something fierce.”
“Oh. Like a chemical burn?” Realization donned on Rachael. It’s not the tank top after all. Oops.
“Exactly. We use treated lumber to build the black board fences because in Florida with the dampness the fence will last longer if it’s built from treated wood.”
That was a little more about Florida fence building than Rachael wanted to know, but if she was going to be working for a ranch building fences and such, it was important.
“So. You and Travis are dating.”
“Um hum.” Rachael nearly choked on her biscuit.
Next he’ll be cleaning a gun or something. Talk about role reversal. I’m not a bad girl.
To Rachael’s surprise that was all he said. He stood from the table and pushed in his chair. He disappeared from the kitchen while Rachael sat in silence finishing the last of her biscuit and coffee.
“Good mornin’,” Travis said from the doorway.
Rachael turned, relieved to see him. “Hey.”
He cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”
“Shh.” Rachael put her finger to her mouth, shushing him.
“Oh. Breakfast with Dad. I’ve been there. Was he pleasant?” Travis grinned.
“He offered me whiskey in my coffee. Is that a typical pleasantry of his?”
“He was just jerking your chain.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure what he thinks about us dating.”
Travis came over and kissed the top of her forehead. “He’s all right with it. I told you he likes you in spite of your drunken and lascivious conduct last weekend.” Rachael reached out to smack Travis on the back of the thigh, but hit his butt on accident just as Mr. Baxter walked back in.
“Hey! None of that!” Mr. Baxter chided.
Yikes! Could this get any worse? I meant to smack his leg for the comment… not attempt a butt pat in front of his dad! Rachael could feel her face burning.
“You two ready to go?” Mr. Baxter asked.
Travis smiled at her, and they all walked out to load up in the truck. A flatbed trailer was hitched up to it, bearing an enormous amount of posts and boards in varying lengths and thicknesses. The smell of the lumber actually burned Rachael’s nose as she approached. That must be the creosote.
Travis opened the door to the front seat for Rachael. Rachael shook her head. There is no way I’m riding shotgun beside the inquisition.
Travis laughed and opened the back door for her. Rachael jumped in, and he handed her a plaid workshirt. No need to put this on yet. I’ll be sweating soon enough.
Travis and Mr. Baxter talked about deer hunting on the way to wherever it was they were going. Rachael’s knowledge of hunting was limited at best. She knew that, according to Chad, it involved tree stands. Levi and Michael used feeders. Yep, that’s about the extent of my knowledge.
“Do you hunt, Rachael?” Mr. Baxter asked.
Is he serious?
“No, sir.”
“Well, it’s never too late to start. There are plenty of young women who like to hunt.”
“Does Maysie hunt?” Rachael couldn’t imagine Maysie hunting.
“No. She’s a little too tender-hearted for that sort of thing. She knows how to shoot and all, but killing Bambi isn’t exactly high on her list,” Travis tossed back lightly.
“Oh. I don’t know about hunting per se, but I have helped Levi with the game feeders on your ranch last summer while y’all were gone.” Since when do I say y’all? What’s happening to me? Am I really turning into a redneck debutante?
“See. You have more of an interest in hunting than we knew.” Mr. Baxter smiled.
Not really, but if you say so. I don’t think putting some feed in a feeder exactly makes me Daniel Boone, but okay. Since this is the first time you’ve smiled at me, maybe we are making some progress.
“Travis, tomorrow afternoon you should take Rachael hunting. She might actually like it.”
Or maybe not.
“Sure, Dad. That’s a great idea.” Rachael could tell from Travis’s cajoling tone he didn’t think Rachael would enjoy it either, but for her sake and to please his dad he went along with the charade.
When they got to some remote destination, Mr. Baxter stopped the truck. “Okay, Rachael,” Mr. Baxter said as they stood outside of the truck and looked down a long stretch of land leading nowhere. “This is the right-of-way where we’re going to build this fence. You’ll see that for the most part it’s clear except for some myrtle bushes further down. Travis will take care of those with a chainsaw.”
“Thank goodness. I don’t know what a myrtle bush is, but I don’t want to cut anything with a chain saw. I might accidentally cut myself.”
“Well, I never intended to arm you with a chainsaw.” M
r. Baxter chuckled. “Your job today will be easy. Have you ever pulled a trailer before?”
What?! Easy? “Uh, no, sir.” Trepidation fluttered like butterflies in her stomach.
“You need to learn,” he replied in a no-nonsense voice. “And out here there’s nothing you can hit, except those large oaks a ways down. So, anyhow, you’ll pull the truck and trailer forward. Travis and I will mark the holes with a pair of post-hole diggers. You’ll lay one of the six-foot posts next to each hole.” Mr. Baxter showed her the difference between the six- and eight-feet posts. “Then you unload three boards and stack them in front of each section all the way down. Travis will help you after he lays the line all the way down and clears the right-of-way of all small trees and bushes. Okay?”
“Got it.” Rachael heard herself saying, hoping what he’d asked her to do was what she thought he’d asked her to do. Besides being somewhat confused about the laying out of the lumber, Rachael also needed to drive this truck and trailer. This was particularly frightening considering the trailer must be at least thirty feet in length.
“I’ll show Rachael how to drive the truck, Dad.” Travis gave her a knowing look. He walked her over to the truck and asked, “You got it?” with a grin.
“I think so. I can do this,” she said confidently.
“It’s an automatic, just like a car, so watch your mirrors. There really isn’t much you can hit out here.”
“Don’t jinx me.” She winked. “So let’s see if I got this. First I set out a post at each hole. Next I set out three boards between each post. I move the truck as I go down until I reach the end.”
“Yep. You’ve got it. Don’t forget to put on the shirt and gloves.”
Rachael nodded. She donned the work shirt and gloves and was ready to begin. She walked to the back of the trailer and started to unload the smaller posts. She carried each one and dropped it beside a hole. By the third hole she was getting the hang of it. She only needed to move the truck every third post. The boards were at the front of the trailer near the cab of the truck.
Rachael would have to unload all of the posts before she could get to the boards at the front. She continued unloading posts and inching the truck forward until she got to the end of the right-of-way. Travis was there with the chainsaw cutting a clearing through the thickest part for the fence line.
He’s sweating, but he hasn’t taken off his shirt. Why not? He isn’t toting creosote soaked posts and therefore doesn’t have to worry about getting burned. If that were me, and I were a guy, I’d have been shirtless in a minute.
As Rachael toted a post past him, she asked, “Why don’t you take off your shirt? At least you can.”
“My dad won’t think it’s appropriate with you here. If it were only us boys, I’d have taken it off already.” At Rachael’s confused look, he continued, “You have to understand, Rach, he’s from a different generation. Men don’t take their shirts off in the presence of a lady—working or otherwise.”
“Oh. But I’ve seen you at the pool in just a swimsuit. Isn’t it the same thing?”
“Not exactly. It’s a Southern thing. Kind of hard to explain. If we are out working with a bunch of guys and Maysie brings us lunch, my dad expects everyone to put their shirts on. It’s out of respect to the woman.”
“So chivalry is not dead,” Rachael teased.
“Not around here. You better get some water.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Rachael lied.
Rachael thought she would melt into the sand and grass. She was dying between the jeans, long-sleeved shirt, tank top, socks, gloves, boots, and hat. She looked like she was ready for winter, except it was not cool at all. On her way back to the truck to get another post she heeded Travis’s warning and grabbed a bottle of water out of the cooler. She downed it and continued on.
On second thought maybe I could part with Taffy…no. Who am I kidding? The barn wouldn’t be the same without her moo.
Rachael was finally to the end of the fence line and was ready to start unloading the boards moving in the opposite direction. Problem. How do I turn this thing around? She glanced around her and found that even if she knew how to turn this truck and trailer around, she wouldn’t have enough room. Should I back it all the way down the fence line? That’s a recipe for disaster! I can barely drive a car in reverse, let alone a truck pulling a thirty-foot-long trailer!
“Need some help?” Mr. Baxter had walked down the fence line to help her. In the distance Travis stood holding a pair of post-hole diggers. She could see his white teeth shining in the sun. He’s enjoying this. He doesn’t think I can do it. Well, I can!
“Sure. I think I need to back the truck and trailer up to get to an opening where I can turn it around,” Rachael announced.
“Would you like to give it a try yourself or for me to do it?” Mr. Baxter asked.
“I’d like to learn.”
“Okay.” Mr. Baxter seemed shocked. “Jump in.” Mr. Baxter walked over and got into the passenger’s seat. “Put it in reverse and hold your wheel straight. Now the trailer has what we call a ‘gooseneck hitch.’ With that kind of hitch you have to turn the wheel in the opposite direction you want the trailer to go. Got it?”
“Not really. So if I want the trailer to go left, I have to back the truck toward the right?”
“That’s correct. You’ll get it. Don’t worry.”
Rachael started backing slowly. At first the trailer went perfectly straight. Then it slowly started to go toward the left, moving away from the fence line.
“Turn your wheel to the left. See, the truck will go back to the left and the trailer will come back to right.” Mr. Baxter coached Rachael down the fence line. With his help it was surprisingly simple. Rachael finally got to the clearing. She backed past it a ways and then put the truck in forward and turned it around to face the opposite direction.
“That wasn’t so bad. Thanks for helping me.”
“Not a problem.” Mr. Baxter got out.
So there, Travis Baxter. A girl can do anything a guy can do, and I just proved it. Well, almost anything. I don’t want to use the machete to clear the bushes or those post-hole diggers either, but I could if I wanted to.
Rachael unloaded the boards in sets of three until she had unloaded all of them. She turned off the truck and got out.
“Let’s break for lunch,” Mr. Baxter announced. “Wanna drive, Rachael?”
“No, thanks. Not on the road yet. I don’t think I’m ready.”
Rachael went around to the other side and got in—this time in the front seat. After the driving lesson, she wasn’t quite as frightened of Mr. Baxter anymore. Rachael went with Travis and Mr. Baxter back to the house for lunch where Mrs. Baxter had prepared limas and biscuits. Rachael was glad to see Maysie when she stepped into the kitchen.
“How are you holding up, Rachael?” Maysie asked sweetly.
“Great. I even learned to back the trailer!” Rachael’s voice gave away her excitement.
“Really? That’s something I can’t even do.”
“Sure you could. Your dad taught me. It was easier than I’d expected.”
“Maybe.” Maysie sounded unsure. “What are your plans for tonight?”
“Nothing much. Why?”
“I thought we could have a last-minute slumber party. Alex, Amber, and Shannah are coming too. I called them a little while ago. You in?”
“I need to check with my mom first. I’ll text her.”
“Good.” At Travis’s cocky grin Maysie said, “And this slumber party doesn’t include you. It’s a girls’ slumber party, even if your girlfriend is going to be there.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to be subjected to any of your girl talk, unless of course it’s about me.” Travis took a biscuit and walked out of the kitchen.
Rachael and Maysie finished their lunch. Rachael’s mother texted her back, said she could go, and that she’d even feed ole’ lonesome George and Taffy for her.
Twenty min
utes later Travis returned to the kitchen. “You ready to go?”
“Yep. See you tonight, Maysie.”
When Rachael and Travis went out to jump into the truck, Rachael immediately noticed Mr. Baxter was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s your dad?”
“He had to drive over and check on a cow. Someone called and said a cow has gotten out on the road in Venice.”
“Venice?”
“Yes. We have some land there. Anyhow, there was a hole in the fence.”
“A hole?”
“Yes. That’s one thing about fence work. It’s never really done. Once they’re built, you continuously have to repair them. People have accidents and run off the road straight through them and stuff. Sometimes they intentionally cut the fence to illegally access the pasture. When that happens, cows can get out on the roads and be killed. Worse yet is when an innocent person hits a cow standing in the road and gets injured or even killed.”
“Has that happened?”
“Unfortunately, yes. That’s why as soon as we get a call that a cow or bull is out on the road, my dad immediately drives there to fix the fence.”
“I didn’t realize there was that much to this ranching thing,” Rachael confessed.
“A lot more than you know. It’s an operation that runs 24/7.”
“Do you want to run your father’s ranch someday?”
“Of course.” His answer was confident.
“Do you want to go to college?”
“Yes. Maybe Gainesville. What about you?”
“I did, but now with all of the stuff with my father and all, I’m not sure about it anymore.”
“If you want to go to college, we’ll make sure you get to go. Why are you sitting way over there?” Travis teased.
Rachael wondered when Travis would notice she was sitting on the far side of the truck. She’d done it intentionally. “It’s not that I don’t want to sit beside you, but I stink from working outside all morning.” She could feel her cheeks warming.
“Come over here and let me see.” He grinned.
Rachael scooted closer.
“Darn girl! You do stink!”
Rachael smacked his stomach.
Cowgirl Down (Redneck Debutante) Page 13
