REN

* * * * * *

2006

 

 

SUMMER ALWAYS MADE everything better.

Longer days, warmer nights, happier animals, and a crap-load of work that needed doing.

When Della jumped on the school bus each morning, I’d throw on the cargo shorts and t-shirt that I’d stolen—that frankly needed to be replaced soon—and head to the back door of the main house.

There, John Wilson would meet me, try to convince me to share a cup of coffee with him and his wife—which I always refused—before listing what he’d like done for the day.

To start with, he came with me, not quite sure of my skills or abilities on using heavy machinery or trusting my methods on doing things.

Within a few days, I’d surprised him that I knew how to drive a tractor, how to attach different equipment like mowers and balers, and had the strength required to lift things even he couldn’t lift.

Mclary had been good in that respect—he’d given me a crash course on how to build muscle that no ten-year-old kid should have, which only increased in strength now I was fifteen. He’d shoved me in his cantankerous tractor when my feet barely reached the pedals and expected me to figure out how to use it because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be getting any scraps for dinner.

Thanks to that harsh education, I could make John’s temperamental tractor purr like a sports car.

Occasionally, I’d catch him watching me with a mixture of awe and sadness.

I didn’t like that look.

I didn’t like him pitying my past while being astounded at my present.

It made me feel like a freak.

However, slowly, as more time passed, and he trusted me with more and more responsibility, the more I grew into my belief that I was worth something, even if I only had nine fingers and a rusty knowledge of reading and arithmetic.

I liked being busy because it gave me something to occupy my time with until the school bus would trundle down the road, screech to a halt at the top of the Wilson’s driveway, and Della would bound down its steps and charge to wherever I was on the property.

It didn’t matter if I was in the furthest field or on the highest roof, she found me, demanded a hug no matter how sweaty and gross I was, then promptly sat down, pulled out two juice boxes from her rucksack, and gave me one.

The first time she produced a bag-warm blackcurrant juice, I’d raised an eyebrow and asked where she’d gotten it from. Thanks to John Wilson keeping my salary, he had the cash to buy food for Della as well as his own children, and when Cassie left for high school and Liam left for an all-boy’s primary, Della was always third in line to receive a lunch bag full of fresh sandwiches, yoghurt, water, and a cookie or two.

I stood beside her every morning to make sure she said thank you and didn’t miss the bus, so I knew what she had to eat and drink and what she didn’t.

Turned out, she’d watched me closer than I thought whenever I’d steal something. She’d become a perfect little thief, and when the school provided extra juices to ward of dehydration during recess, she’d grab three. One for then, and two for later.

I warned her she’d get caught and wouldn’t be allowed to go to school anymore.

But every day, she returned home and smugly gave me her pilfered juice box, proud and happy. She said she thought about me even when I wasn’t there and wanted to make sure I had enough liquid while working out in the heat.

The fact that she cared and thought about me when I was so sure she’d be enthralled by new friends and teachers and forget all about me made my heart burst.

I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought I didn’t want her.

I couldn’t stand remembering how I’d left her behind, if only for a few days.

My life wouldn’t be nearly as rewarding if she’d never stowed away in my backpack and become my most favourite thing in the world.

And just like Della was my one and only, she was loved by each Wilson just as much. Liam would often search her out after he came home from school, and they’d play tag or swim in the river that cut through the Wilson’s back paddock. Cassie took her under her wing and taught her how to be around horses safely, how to brush them, feed them, and even, on a muggy summer night, helped her climb aboard and led her around the paddock where Cassie jumped and schooled her horses.

Della had fallen asleep that night with the biggest grin on her face, legs and arms star-fished under the blankets in utter bliss. I’d watched her sleep for a while before sneaking from the bedroom and going to thank Cassie.

Her bedroom window was above a goldfish pond with pretty lily pads and noisy frogs. I often wondered if the position of the quaint pond directly beneath Cassie’s window was to prevent her from easily scaling the flat roof and shimming down the ivy growing on the brick.

The more I got to know her, the more I learned who she was, and she had a rebellious streak. She might love her parents and brother, but she didn’t necessarily like rules. She’d already tried dope, drank with her friends when she said she was staying the night to do homework, and generally acted like an adult when really, she was still a girl.

In many ways, Della seemed older than her with her serious attitude, utmost concentration on learning new things, and almost magical way she retained everything.

Where Cassie favoured sarcasm for laughter, Della preferred wit and a dry sense of humour. Where Cassie protected Liam and got angry with him over the slightest thing, Della cared for me as deeply as I cared for her, and we never had stupid arguments.

When we had arguments, they were never stupid, but hell, they were loud and long and drained me until all I wanted to do was kneel before my tiny ribbon and beg her to forgive me, even if it wasn’t my fault.

That night, as I stood by the pond and threw a small pebble at Cassie’s window, I knew I was crossing the friendship boundary that we’d danced around ever since that first kiss a few months ago.

She hadn’t tried to kiss me again, and I was too much of a wimp to try myself.

Yet here I was about to do something that made my legs quake and belly knot, and in a way, it was thanks to Della.

It was her happiness that made me want to make Cassie just as happy because I was so damn grateful she’d befriended her. The fact that she let Della ride her prized pony was one of the most selfless things I’d seen her do.

Her window slid up on the third pebble, her brown hair mused from her pillow and one cheek red from lying on her side. “What gives? What’s happened?”

“Meet me at the kitchen door,” I whispered, keeping a close eye on her parents’ blackened bedroom three windows away.

Not waiting to see if she’d obey, I jogged around the farmhouse, avoiding the perfect flower beds that Patricia Wilson spent hours tending, and waited nervously as soft footsteps sounded on the flagstone floor then the rattle of a lock and opening of the door.

“It’s past midnight. Why am I out of bed?” Cassie blinked with blurry eyes. “You do realise Dad asked you to get up at dawn to do the first cut of the season, right?”

I nodded. “I know.”

“That’s in…I dunno, four hours or so.”

“I know that, too.”

“Well, how about you tell me what you’re doing here, so I know if you’ve gone insane or not.”

I smiled, climbing the small stoop so we were eye level. She was shorter than me but not by much. Her arms weren’t as strong. Her legs not as fast. Her smile not as pure as Della’s.

Funny how I compared the two.

Strange that I found both perfect in their own way.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice dropping into the husky undertones that never failed to make me hard.

Clearing my throat, I said softly, “Thank you for letting Della ride your horse today.”

She tilted her head so thick hair rivered over her shoulder. “That’s what you woke me up to say?”

I shrugged. “I needed to say it.”

“Well, I needed to sleep.” She smirked, her cheeks pinking with pleasure instead of annoyance as she pretended.

“I also…” I coughed, doing my best to get up the courage. “I also wanted to do something.”

“What something?”

Why was this so hard? How had she kissed me that night in the barn? It took a hell of a lot of guts, and it made me respect her that much more for being the first to do it.

“I—” Gripping the back of my neck, I squeezed hard. Doing my best to suck up my fear, I leaned toward her. “I wanted to kiss you again.”

She gasped just as I closed the distance and pressed my lips to hers.

We stood frozen and awkward, her in the kitchen, me on the stoop, and my heart roared in my ears. I didn’t know what to do next. I’d done this all wrong.

Cursing myself, I pulled back only for her arms to shoot around my neck and her mouth to seek mine. She yanked me to her, making me stumble against the doorframe and brace myself on the wood.

Her lips weren’t innocent like last time. They’d had practice and now had a brave assurance that mine lacked.

Her tongue didn’t flutter shyly, it didn’t dance or ask. It pierced my lips and entered my mouth with a flavour of mint and teenage need.

Her arms tightened, deepening the kiss and wedging her body against mine.

And that was all I could take.

I’d come to give a heartfelt thank you and deliver a courteous kiss, yet Cassie turned it into a clawing, drawing need for more.

My hands left the doorframe and wrapped around her waist, jerking her against me, groaning at the delicious friction of her against every hard ridge of me.

She moaned as I spun her out of the house and crashed her against the porch wall. Our mouths never separated as our breathing turned quick, and our hands roamed with no direction.

Her tongue fought mine, adding another element to the kiss, turning it sloppy and violent. I didn’t care about technique or learning how to do it better. I let her guide me, following her lead, kissing her as savagely as she kissed me.

And when her leg cocked over my hip—the very same one with a cattle brand and so many memories attached to it—I snapped out of the stupor she’d put me in and fell backward, breathing hard.

Stumbling down the steps, I stared at her, almost buckling and returning for more.

She stood in cute cotton shorts and a nightshirt with bright pink flamingos, hair wild, lips red, chest panting, and eyes begging me to come back.

It was thanks to her blatant invitation and the fact I knew exactly what she was asking that gave me the power to walk away.

The night sky was my salvation from temptation as I put one foot in front of the other and dared let my hand wander and squeeze the excruciating ache between my legs.

Just before I reached the garden path, a sultry voice fell like starlight. “Della can ride my horses anytime she wants. I’ll share everything with her…as long as you continue to kiss me like that, Ren Wild.”

I didn’t turn around as the kitchen door closed quietly.

* * * * *

The rest of summer was filled with late afternoon swims with Della, Liam, and Cassie; cold lemonade and barbecues thanks to Patricia and John, and a sensation of rightness as Della excelled at school and I indulged in my calling to work the land.

My hands were never fully clean from dirt. My skin was always browned from the sun. My body lean and strong, no matter how much Patricia tried to feed me.

I never saw a penny for the many hours I worked. It didn’t matter if I started at dawn and finished long past dusk, John never gave me a dollar.

But it didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping tally.

During the busiest time of the year, when we had countless equestrians and fellow farmers coming to buy lucerne and meadow hay, and my life was a never-ending loop of cutting, fluffing, raking, baling, loading, and sowing, strange new possessions started appearing.

Patricia often stole Della to go with her and Cassie on shopping trips into town, and Della would return with sugar still rimming her pretty lips and her hands full of bags. She’d force me to sit on the bed as she tried on outfit after outfit, giving me a fashion show of colourful summer dresses, practical winter jackets, and frankly far too revealing swimsuits.

It was odd that the one-piece daffodil coloured swimsuit she wore whenever we’d swim in the river annoyed me more than skinny-dipping ever did.

There was something about the way it made Della switch from uncaring natural child to fledgling young woman who copied Cassie’s every move that made me look away as if I’d breached some sort of code by looking at her.

As Cassie prowled around in her black bikini with toned legs and perky breasts, Della would puff out her flat little chest and sunbake on flat rocks with her legs crossed in perfect imitation.

It made me uncomfortable but also indulgent.

I didn’t like to think of her trading innocence for whatever Cassie dabbled in, but I also couldn’t ignore that she was almost six years old—maybe already six years old, seeing as I didn’t know her birthday—and time was speeding up.

Every morning, she seemed to look different with a wiser glint to her gaze and harsher pinch to her lips if I annoyed her. She kept me on my toes—almost as much as Cassie did.

I struggled most days around Cassie, and my body was in a total flux of pain whenever we’d swim together. She’d pin me with an inviting stare, her body lithe and tempting and I’d have to turn my back to avoid revealing just how much she affected me.

Little Liam was the easiest to hang out with because all he cared about was lizards and helping his mother in the garden. He wasn’t growing up too fast or trying to lead me directly into sin.

Despite my growing awareness and steadily growing desire for what Cassie tempted, I loved working for the Wilsons. They were true to their word and among the many kindnesses they did for Della, they also ensured I had a treat now and again, too.

I did my best to ensure their farm ran as smoothly and productively as possible, and I guessed they appreciated it because one night, after a particularly gruelling day hauling hundreds of hay bales from the paddock and stacking them in the barn for winter feed, I lugged my tired, aching body to the one bedroom I shared with Della and heard music and voices coming from within.

A man’s voice.

My heavy steps turned quick as I barrelled into the room only to find Della sprawled on her belly with her chin in her hands, watching a comedy on a brand new flat-screen TV.

“Where did that come from?” I plopped exhausted beside her on the end of the bed, laying my arm over her shoulders and playing, like I always did, with the blue ribbon trapped in her ponytail.

“Patty and John.” She shuffled closer, uncaring that her clean skin pressed against my hay-covered sweat.

“Wow.”

“I know.” She nodded importantly. “I made sure to say thank you.”

“I think they deserve multiple thank yous.”

“Cassie let me ride her horse today after school, too.” Her face split into the biggest grin. “I got a gold star in class, got to ride a pony, and we have a TV again! Best day ever!”

I kissed her head, inhaling the sweet milk and honey shampoo she favoured and ignored my skipping heart. “I’m going to get clean.”

“Okay.” She flashed me a smile then turned back to the TV. As her attention fixed on the ridiculous show, I dragged myself to the shower and stripped.

I stood under cold water, trying to wash away heatstroke and prickly grass while doing my best to inject energy into tired muscles because I wouldn’t be crawling into bed to fall asleep beside Della.

Not yet, anyway.

Della had ridden Cassie’s horse.

And that meant I owed someone a kiss.