Chapter Twenty

Evelyn

 

As I parked my car next to James’s large red pickup truck, I noticed an older truck on the other side of his. It was green and white, sported an old-fashioned camper shell over the bed, and it was covered in mud.

I stepped onto the porch, knocked on the door, once, twice, a third time. My hand turned the knob, half-afraid of walking in on something I shouldn’t, but pushed the door open anyways. The house was quiet, empty, so I closed the door and walked towards the barn.

The sun was already setting, the days still ending early even though the air was growing warmer each day. I noticed a light flickering in the small barn, the one that sat next to the larger one where the horses were kept.

I walked towards the light, stopping once I made it to the large open entry space. James was inside a pen with his arm shoved deep into the backside of a cow, nearly to his shoulder.

He was covered in sweat, dirt, and lord only knows what else, but he still brought weakness to my knees and a flutter to my heart.

The older man outside the pen noticed me first, nodding in my direction with a tip of his hat. His action caused James to look towards the entry, and his face turned bright red once he saw me standing there, watching.

“Hey, darling; I didn’t forget, I promise,” he stammered, his arm still deep inside the cow.

It was hard to look at him without laughing, but I thought it would be rude, or somehow ignorant. When it came to farms, to ranches especially, I was ignorant. It was part of the reason I often wondered if James and I could even work, not that I was certain that’s what he wanted. But, we were so different, so very different.

“I can see you have your hands full,” I smirked.

He laughed, and the cow bucked against him, his arm causing a strange tremble inside of her I was certain.

“I didn’t realize there were gonna be any complications when Doc came out, but as you can see,” James grinned mischievously.

“How about I go inside, find something for dinner and get it started?” I suggested.

“Baby, you’re amazing,” James gloated.

“How long do you need out here?” I asked before heading inside.

“Probably an hour,” he sighed.

I waved to the older gentlemen, the one I assumed was Doc, and headed back to the house.

Inside, James had thawed out two large steaks in the fridge and had an assortment of fresh veggies in a basket on the counter. I peeked out the kitchen window to the back deck. There was a charcoal grill out there that I was certain he planned on using for the steaks. Men always loved their meat grilled, and of course, loved to prepare it themselves. But, I had no idea how to work a grill, let alone ensure something was cooked properly on one.

A small radio sat on the counter near the stove, one so old I wasn’t even sure how to work it. But, I wanted music, something to inspire me on what to make, and something to kill the eerie silence of the small house. I picked the radio up, turning it in every direction as I searched for the power button. My thumb rolled against a plastic wheel on the side, and suddenly there was static coming through the speakers. The other side offered a smaller wheel, one that when turned, changed the station. I settled on a country station with upbeat music and turned the volume up loud enough to drown out the quiet.

I continued to look out the window and stare at the grill. There was a lighter on the counter and a bag of charcoal by the door. It was what he wanted, and the thought of a grilled steak made my mouth water. I’d watched enough men start a grill to know how to stack the coals, and starting it was easy with the bottle of lighter fluid on the counter by the lighter.

I shrugged off the idea and started the oven. Two large potatoes in the basket were perfect for baking, so I rummaged through the drawers and cabinets until I found aluminum foil. I stabbed them each with a fork a few times and then wrapped them in the foil before placing them in the oven.

The grill, if I decided to use it, would need to heat up, but it was still too soon. I worked on prepping the vegetables in the basket for a salad. I started a pot of water for a couple eggs to add to the salad, and fried a few pieces of bacon to add to the baked potatoes. I set aside one of the pieces and the bacon fat to use for a warm bacon dressing.

My time had come. If I didn’t start the grill, it would be too late. I took a deep breath, gathered the essentials, and headed out the door. I stood there, staring at the round red grill as if it were an alien. I sighed as I picked up the lid, ready to at least give it a shot. I stacked the coals, doused them in lighter fluid, and then used a long thin twig from the ground and a piece of the charcoal bag to start a small flame. I reached towards the coals with the stick aflame, and with a large puff, it was lit. I replaced the lid and rushed back inside. Adrenaline rushed through my veins like a drug. The music blared a country song I’d never heard before. I liked the tune, and the lyrics were fun and flirty.

I started dancing, carefree and happy, feelings I wasn’t accustomed to having, at least not that I could remember.

My fingers tossed the salad of spinach leaves, kale, onions, and carrots. The eggs were boiled, cooled, and cut in half to go on each plate, and the bacon grease heated with honey, sugar, and vinegar. I pulled the potatoes from the oven with the only mitt I could find. They were hot in my hand with the thin, outdated mitt, causing me to squeal as I dropped them on the counter to cool.

I continued to dance as I watched the grill from inside the kitchen, my hips swaying to the beat of the song, and my heart filled with a strange, but comforting happiness.

Clap, Clap, Clap

I turned towards the applause, my cheeks burning red and my eyes wide as they landed on James. He stood at the front door, still dirty, maybe even dirtier. His eyes sparkled against the light of the old chandelier that hung over the table, and his skin glowed as the moonlight pushed in from behind him.

“You startled me,” I gasped, trying to gather my composure.

“Not my intention. I could’ve watched you all night,” he smiled.

My heart fluttered, my knees weakened, and that strange, comforting happiness grew larger in my heart.

“I need to clean up,” he held his arms out from his sides, shrugging as he grinned in my direction.

I nodded, unable to speak until clearing my throat.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” I blushed.

James disappeared down the hall, and I pushed into high gear to get everything ready.

Outside, the grill was nice and hot, so I dropped the steaks onto the grate and covered with the lid. I decided on six minutes on one side, then four on the other for a nice medium rare cut of meat. I managed to plate the salads before turning the steaks, and prepped the potatoes before I had to pull them from the fire. I wasn’t sure how to put the grill out, so I just left the lid on the ground and went inside with the meat.

“Something smells amazing,” James hollered from down the hall.

Pride swirled around me like a school kid that just won the dodgeball game in gym class. I plated our meals, ensuring to wipe any smudges from the edges of the old-fashioned dishes. Just as James entered the kitchen, everything was on the table, and I placed two cold beers by each plate.

Strong arms gripped me, squeezed me into them, and left me weak when they released. The smell of soap, familiar soap, wafted under my nose as James hugged me from behind. He leaned down, gently moving my hair from my shoulder, and then kissing softly the small mole he seemed fascinated with from day one.

He apologized for not having things ready when I arrived, and for it being too late to take a ride. I didn’t mind.

“I’ve never been very into cooking,” I admitted.

“I wouldn’t believe it lookin’ at this meal,” he howled.

“I actually enjoyed it,” I smiled.

“It sure looked like it,” he winked.

I was interested in what he was doing in the barn earlier, but he assured me it was better to talk about my day during dinner, and he’d fill me in on the couch after everything had digested.

As I rattled on about case logs, city ordinances, and a variety of other mundane day-to-day stuff that my job entailed, it occurred to me that James was probably bored to death.

“I’m sorry. I know there’s nothing interesting about my job,” I laughed.

“That’s not true. I think what you do is amazing,” he smiled sincerely.

“Not amazing enough to get an answer on your court date,” I sighed.

“You will,” he insisted.

“Now, this steak, I have to tell you, it’s perfect. Everything is perfect,” James blurted with a roaring hum.

My cheeks blushed.

I’d been picking around at my salad and potato, a little afraid to cut into my own steak. I watched James eat, shoving pieces in his mouth before the last ones were chewed, but I wasn’t sure if he was enjoying it that much, or if he was just that hungry. It was nice to hear that he was impressed.

I cut into my perfectly cooked steak and was impressed with myself.

“I never used a grill before,” I admitted.

“Shewee! Everything you do, you do better than most,” James smiled as his eyes danced on mine.

That could’ve been my creed all through school, and even after. Everything I did, I did try to do better than most, and usually, I succeeded. Somehow, James enjoying my steak was more satisfying in that moment than any other I could remember.

After dinner, James helped me clean up and then guided me to the couch while he started a fire in the old stone fireplace. The window was open in the kitchen, and the night air had cooled quite a bit, causing the house to chill. A fire sounded like the perfect way to warm things up, and it didn’t hurt that it was romantic as hell.

He insisted I kick off my shoes and stretch out on the cushions with my feet in his lap. I protested at first, not one to have ever had a foot rub, but eventually gave in as James convinced me that I deserved it for working so hard to feed him.

His large hands massaged my tired tiny feet while he told me about the heifer and why he had his hand so far inside of her. I was disgusted, embarrassed, and a little intrigued by his story. There was something so soft about a man who would display his humility to provide comfort to a beast.

“So, she’s okay now?” I asked.

“Yeah, a little sore probably,” he chuckled.

I laughed as I looked down at his hand, larger than the foot he held.

“I’m sure,” I laughed.

“Your turn,” I insisted, motioning towards his feet.

He shook his head, his cheeks burning red as he protested.

“I won’t take no for an answer,” I pushed.

He reluctantly put his feet in my lap, and our legs entangled as we both found our comfort spots.

My hands were so small compared to his feet, but I was determined to make him feel as good as he had me. I worked my fingers into his skin, massaging slowly as he talked about Doc, and how close he was to Jasper.

I asked him about his time there with the old man. I wanted to know everything, about where he came from, why he ended up on the ranch, and what made him want to stay.

James told me about a young boy with no direction, and no good role model to point him in one. A drunken father, a mother that passed when he was too small to remember, he knew he was destined to be a nobody. Those are the words he recalled his dad telling him over and over again.

“I was just looking for work, a reason to quit school and start earning enough money to leave when I turned eighteen,” he sighed.

My heart ached for him, imagining what his life must’ve been like. I’d wanted to run to, to escape my parents as soon as I was of age, but not because they beat me down, but because they held me to such a high standard it felt as though I was on a pedestal. I started to feel lucky to have parents so enthralled in my future, in my success.

“Old man Jasper hired me. He was a mean old coot, stubborn as a mule, and hard as hell to please,” James chuckled as he thought back to the man he thought of as a father.

He told me how when it came time to get paid, Martin Jasper drove him to the bank and made him open an account. One he could use, spend however he pleased, but the other he couldn’t make any withdrawals without the old man’s presence.

“I was so mad I wanted to hit him, to quit right there and tell him to shove his job where the sun didn’t shine,” James sighed.

“Why didn’t you?” I questioned.

“Because he kept telling me he believed in me, and that he knew I could do better, and he wouldn’t stop riding me until I saw it too,” he leaned up and smiled.

His story continued, adding how Jasper talked to him about the military, and how he made him save money each week, more than he was ever allowed to keep. By the time he was of age, he had plenty money to leave town as he planned to, to leave the small crap town he once hated. Somewhere along the way, Martin Jasper made him believe in himself, and he decided to join the Navy with the goal of becoming a SEAL.

“I was living here by then, and it was nice to know I had a home to come back to,” he whispered, his voice starting to get sleepy.

I watched his eyes grown heavy as he trailed off on the details of when he returned, of how Jasper was sick and hadn’t told him through any letters. He fell asleep, snuggled peacefully into the throw pillow that had an embroidered sheep on it.

My eyes were starting to close as I watched James sleep. My heart was heavy with the realization that I had gotten myself into real trouble. I’d fallen for him, somewhere along the line I let myself become attached, involved, and hopeful.

This, whatever this was, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing. Not only were we two very different people, but an age gap close to ten years tore between us.

I turned myself on the couch, sliding into James’s arms with my cheek pressed against his chest. A decision became clear at that moment. No matter what this was, even if it was just sex. I was going to enjoy the hell out of while it lasted.

I closed my eyes and tried not to picture a future with James, but it was all I could see.