Lincoln

The next morning, I woke up on the kitchen floor. I was naked and alone, and I had a panting Dalmatian standing over me. I tilted my head to look over at Gin before grunting and standing up. I wasn’t accustomed to waking up in such a fashion, so I was slightly off-kilter when I stood up. In all my naked and groggy glory, I made my way to the coffee pot to pour myself a nice cup of joe. The coffee Harper had wasn’t exactly my favorite, so while I sipped it I made a mental note to buy her something better when I went grocery shopping again. While sipping the coffee, I read over my text messages and saw one from my mom.

There’s a bull riding contest tonight at Pete’s Pub. You should take Harper and have a good time. You both deserve it.

I thought about it and shrugged, figuring I’d toss the idea in the air to see how Harper reacted later that evening. After my morning coffee, I headed to my room to get dressed for the day. I had a lot of work to do to get the stables cleaned and ready for the new horses, and I wanted to get a jump-start on cleaning up around the property to start rebuilding pens for the other animals I wanted to purchase. The Callahan family had once had more than just chickens and horses. They’d had goats, pigs, cows, sheep, and even a mule. I always felt a twinge of remorse whenever I compared the old farm to what it had turned into.

In its heyday, photographers had often traveled to the farm just to take pictures of the beautiful scene, and artists had frequently rented out rooms so they could add images to their portfolio. The grass had been lush and green, expanding as far as the eye could see. There had been a plethora of animals roaming around their pens while the dogs had chased sheep and one another through the fields. Harper’s mom had kept a food garden that she’d taken care of like it had been a child; she’d grown the healthiest vegetables humanly possible. That woman had had a thumb so green, even the grass had burned with envy. I remembered Harper being so excited to ride her horse, Ash. She would get up early just to do so. She would wake up, call me, and tell me to meet her at the human-made lake on the edge of her family’s property. Her father had dug that lake up and filled it with water, and her mom had put a flower garden around it. It had been Harper’s favorite place; she had spent hours reading there.

Ten years later, the farm was a shell of its former self. There were only a few chickens, three horses, and her two dogs. Both of her mother’s beloved gardens had died and withered, and I was sure the lake was drained, because Harper didn’t even bother going over to it. A part of me wanted to restore the farm back to its former glory for Harper, and not solely for the sake of the benefits my business would receive. Her eyes had changed. There was no spark, no passion, no energy behind them. I knew it had to do with the business, and I wanted to try my best to give her hope in life again.

I headed to the stables, as I figured Harper was there since she spent so much of her time caring for the horses rather than fixing up the farm. When I found her brushing her father’s favorite horse, Cow, I knew it was hard for her to push herself to change or fix anything because she didn’t want to change the last things her parents had seen.

“Good morning, Harper,” I said softly.

She looked back at me and smiled the first genuine smile I’s seen from her that was meant for me. “Good morning, Lincoln. Do you want breakfast?”

I shook my head. “No. I was thinking about getting started on fixing up the farm. There’s a lot to do, and I think we can get it done in a few months’ time.”

“You don’t have to fix anything up. I’ll find a way to do it,” she said.

She was too stubborn to ask me for help, and a fire grew in my belly at that. Without hesitating, I grabbed some work gloves and made my way out. I felt her eyes on me, but I wasn’t going to look back or stop. I started working at once. First, I took apart the shabby old posts and fences that had held the animals. I made notes of what and how much I needed to order as I worked. Once all the wood was gathered, I tossed it into a pile to be burned. After that, I went to the lawn mower I had seen Harper using a few days before, and I evened out all the grass. With just those two things done, the property looked a lot better. I made a note to buy a new lawn mower and some paint for the stables and the garage.

After seven hours of nonstop work, I finally decided to take a break. Harper had moved inside well before, so I let the horses run around the property to get exercise in. I walked inside covered in sweat and with mixed feelings about what I had done. It had taken me back to when I’d been younger. I hadn’t worked on the Callahan farm, but I had worked clean-up for the rodeo during the weekends and as a farmhand during the week. I wasn’t comfortable slipping back into my old skin; it made me want to scrub off all the dirt from every inch of my body. However, it had also felt good to do something I was naturally good at. There had been no pretending and no judgement, so I’d felt completely at ease.

I walked into the house, drenched in sweat, and entered the kitchen, where I heard Harper cooking lunch. My nose was greeted by the smell of chicken, and my eyes fell on Harper. She must have heard me approaching, because she looked over. When she saw me, her eyes slowly admired my body before they looked into mine. There was no hiding it; she was checking me out. She must have liked seeing me work on the farm.

“Are you hungry?” she asked with a lusty drawl.

I couldn’t keep myself from smirking as I nodded. “I am. What are you making?”

“I’m reheating some chicken and making sandwiches,” she said, her eyes still roaming around my body.

I walked over and allowed her to get her eyeful before I cleared my throat to get her full attention. “Let’s go to the bar tonight.”

“Are you sure you want to go out again tonight? You’ve been working hard all day. Don’t you want to relax?”

“My mom told me there’s a mechanical bull riding contest, and it’s been a while since I’ve mounted a bull of any sort,” I said. “It’d give us an excuse to go out and have fun again, and you a reason not to cook.”

She thought it over and quickly decided. “I’ll be ready by six,” she said, handing me one the sandwiches she had made.

Later that evening, we walked out of the house more comfortable with one another than we had been since I’d arrived in town. She was dressed like a Western goddess with her high-waisted Daisy Dukes, a low-cut black T-shirt with a dark brown leather jacket, and a pair of dark brown cowboy boots. I was more casual as well in my jeans and long-sleeved black shirt. We looked like a pair of locals, but we were the most attractive bunch in the town.

As I drove, Harper chatted away. It was obvious she was excited about the night, and I was excited to be with her. While she talked, I thought about how much I cared about her. She’d told me I wasn’t the Lincoln she had fallen in love with, and those words replayed through my head constantly. I wanted to prove to her that I was the man she loved and the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The only thing that had changed was the money. I just had to show her that Lincoln hadn’t gone away like she’d thought. He was still present and determined as ever to show her that fact.

We arrived at the bar and walked right in. It was loud, the air was full of cigar and cigarette smoke, and the crowd was already half drunk. I remembered wanting to come into this very bar as a teenager, but I’d never managed to persuade anyone to let me in. Harper and I walked right to the bar. She ordered a beer and I ordered a neat whiskey. We socialized, laughed, and shamelessly flirted with one another as we waited for the bull riding contest. Once it came, we watched the others go first. Some fell off within a matter of seconds, but others got just a few seconds away from beating the one-minute record before falling off. Before I knew it, it was my turn.

I walked right up to that mechanical bull and mounted it like a pro. I felt everyone’s eyes on me, especially Harper’s. It brought me back to my dream, but I shook those thoughts out of my head. No bull was going to take me down—not a golden one and certainly not a mechanical one. As the bull began to move, I shifted my body and rolled my hips like I had been taught when I’d worked at the rodeo. I moved my weight around and kept my body loose. If I tensed, I would fall. It didn’t get a hard until the bull began jerking me around; that was when I decided to grip onto the straps harder to keep my cool. I wasn’t sure how long I was on the bull, but people began cheering and yelling. There were whistles and howls of entertained laughter. It wasn’t until the announcer’s voice broke through the air that I realized what was happening.

I had broken the one-minute record.

With pride, I hopped off the bull with ease and yelled out victoriously. Adrenaline was rushing through my body. I felt so high, so proud, and so accomplished, because I knew there had been an air of doubt surrounding me as I’d ridden. So many people had wanted to watch and laugh as I fell, but I’d proved them all wrong. I had proved to them that Lincoln Heatherton had succeeded and was going to keep succeeding. I couldn’t keep the pride within me.

“Everyone’s drinks are on me tonight!”

Everyone was eager to take me up on my offer, and they followed me to the bar. I bought shots, beers, whiskeys, and whatever else anyone wanted. People were coming up to me and congratulating me, complimenting me, and treating me like I was an actual person. Some of the very people who had tormented me as a child were right beside me telling me how good I was. I got so wrapped up in the alcohol and the compliments that I lost myself. I found myself standing on the bar, tossing money in the air and eating up the attention. God, it felt so good to be on top.

I rode out my high for as long as I could, and then I remembered Harper. I scanned the crowd and found her sitting at a table all by herself, frowning at me from afar. My heart sank, and I hopped off the bar. No one paid attention; they were scrambling over money or ordering their free drinks. I walked over and stopped right in front of her.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want a drink?” I asked her.

“No, I want a drink, but I don’t want a drink with you,” she retorted.

Her words stung, I had to admit, especially because I didn’t know where they were coming from. I walked closer to her and rested my hands on her bare thighs. “What are you talking about? I thought we were having a good time.”

“I was having a good time until the new Lincoln, the Lincoln from the big city who thinks he’s better than everyone, popped up again,” she fired at me.

“I don’t think I’m better than everyone,” I argued.

“Oh really? You’re throwing money in the air and buying out the whole stock of alcohol this place has to offer, and that’s not you thinking you’re better than everyone?”

There was no winning with this woman. Had she forgotten that I had slaved away all day to make improvements on her family property for her? Had she forgotten how we had made love the night before? There was no comprehending exactly what she wanted from me. My emotions were getting the best of me and the alcohol had limited my filter. There was no holding in the words I had been trying so hard to keep to myself.

“What do I have to do to impress you, Harper?”