Authors: Clarissa Wild
Tags: #love, #farm, #serial, #short story, #womens fiction, #erotic romance, #bbw, #western, #novella, #wild west, #farmer, #sweet romance, #singer, #songwriter, #rancher, #curvy girl
She shoots me a oh-no-you-didn’t look, and
I back up immediately. “
Hey, I’m just the messenger. And I’ve got worse news. Ben’s
shop doesn’t have a spare one lying around. I’ll have to call him
tomorrow and make some deal to get one quicker, but it’ll still
take days to arrive.”
“What?” she screams.
“Sorry. Didn’t think it’d be this bad.”
“
No shit!
” she yells. “Crap! I don’t have anything else,
Jack. My car is the only thing I have right now, and you’re telling
me it’s too damaged to drive?” Amy starts pacing up and down the
hallway. Jesus, it’s just a car. Why’s she so attached to that
dump?
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it fixed in no
time.”
Her forehead is wrinkly from distress and
her eyes flick about. I can’t help but think that something is
seriously wrong in her life right now, for her to act like this. As
if her life depends on that car. I don’t really know how to react.
All I know is that I want to help her, because that’s all I know. I
do the only thing I know to make things better.
“
Hey, I promise. I’ll fix it. Stop
worrying.” I make promises I don’t even know I can keep.
“What do I do now? I can’t go home,” she
mutters. She rests her hand on her forehead, still pacing
around.
“
Guess there’s nothing to do about
it.
If you want, you can
stay here for the night. Maybe longer, depending on how much time
it takes for me to repair your car.”
“
Stay here?”
Amy repeats.
“Yeah. It’s no problem. I’ve got a spare
bed.”
“What? No, no … I can’t.”
“Why not? You’ve got nowhere else to go,
right? No one else to pick you up?”
She
shakes her head.
“
Well, what do you suggest then? Would you
rather sleep outside?”
I
say.
“
Of course not.”
“Guess it’s decided then.”
Madeline suddenly comes running into the
kitchen again. “Daddy, are you done yet?”
Amy’s caught off guard and I see it as the
perfect opportunity. Maybe spending some time with my Madeline can
calm her down. She has that effect on people, or at
least on me.
Amy turns to me to say something,
but has no time to speak
because Madeline is jerking her arm.
“
Come play with me!”
Madeline says.
“Uh …” Amy stammers.
Madeline pulls her arm, dragging
her
to her corner. Amy
looks at me, desperation crossing her face. It makes me laugh. Poor
thing. Probably not used to having kids around. Well, I don’t blame
her. I never expected to have one myself at my twenty-five years of
age. Let alone having to raise her by myself.
“
Go on,” I
say to the both of them. “I’ll call when dinner’s
ready.”
Madeline grabs her least favorite doll and
presses it firmly into Amy’s hand, pulling her down to the floor. I
chuckle as I watch the two play together. Madeline never shares her
dolls, so it surprises me she gives one of them away. To a
stranger, no less. It’s
as if she already trusts Amy, even though she just said she
was weird. That girl never ceases to amaze me.
I go outside and check on the beef, which
seems grilled enough to be taken off. Medium is better than well
done. I like my beef juicy, not as a shoe sole.
Back inside,
I clean the table. The beans and taters are done
too and I take them off the gas. “Dinner’s ready!”
I put the pans and plates on the table and
wait until both of them get here before I sit down. I stare at the
decked out table and am reminded of all the times I wasn’t the one
cooking. I hope I’ve learned enough the past year to make up for
it.
Madeline jumps on her seat at the corner
of the table, clattering her fork and knife against each other
while Amy takes a seat opposite of me. She’s quiet, distant,
looking away. I wonder if she’s just shy and feels embarrassed to
eat in front of strangers. Or maybe there’s something
more.
“
Guests first,”
I say
, and I hand Amy
the spoon for the beans.
She hesitates to scoop up some food, as if
she’s afraid I’ve put something nasty in it. She glances at me and
I know she sees I’m watching her. She quickly puts a tiny amount on
her plate and hands the spoon back to me. I frown, trying to
understand what’s going on inside that head of hers. I could ask,
but that would be rude, and I’m sure Miss Sensitive will make
dinner very unpleasant if I do.
After all of us have our plates full,
she’s still tossing her beans
as if she’s bored.
I swallow a few beans. “What’s the matter?”
I ask.
She looks up at me and a cute flush appears
on her cheeks. “I’m … just not that hungry.”
I started cutting my beef steak, but the
gurgling sounds coming from where she’s seated make me stop. Her
stomach’s growling.
“
Oh, really?” I say, unable to withhold a
stupid smile from creeping up on my face. She’s hungry, or at least
her stomach is. Why isn’t she eating? “Give it a try. It’s not
going to bite you.”
My persistent gaze drives her to pick up a
single bean with her fork. Her shaking hands bring it to her mouth
and she starts chewing it very carefully. I wait and see until she
reacts. I’d like to know if my cookin
g is on par with her standards.
She makes an approving hum. “Did you make
this
all by yourself?
It’s delicious!”
I smile. “
Yep. Prepared by the infamous Jack ‘of all trades’
McCallister.”
She bursts out into laughter. “Jack
of
all
trades?”
“
Uh-huh. There ain’t nothin’ this
guy can’t do, Miss.” I pass her
a wink, and she chuckles loudly.
“
Yeah, right. I’ll need to see that for
myself,” she says.
“
All right. I’ll show y
a. Tomorrow.”
One of her eyebrows rises. “And why would
I find that interesting? I’ve got better things to do.”
“Like what?”
“
Oh, like getting my car fixed for
starters.” She waves
her
fork in the air as if it’s a wand.
“
That’s part of my trade. I promise I’ll
fix your car. Just sit back and hold tight.”
“What am I supposed to do in the mean
time?”
“Help out on the farm.”
Her fork drops onto the table. “You can’t be
serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious all right.”
“I can’t do that.”
“
Why not? Is there something wrong with
your legs or arms?
Last
I checked you weren’t in a wheel chair, unless you magically
conjured one up with that wizard-like fork flick you do while I
wasn’t looking.”
She gazes at me with a furious look on her
face, but I find it amusing. Highly amusing. Her reaction to
everything I say makes me want to taunt her even more. It’s just
too appealing not to. I just want to see that annoyed face over and
over again. It makes me laugh and forget all the shit I’m
confronted with daily.
“
Daddy, look!” Madeline holds up her plate,
letting the food almost slip off. I push it up, to prevent
the
table from getting
messy again. Cleaning up is not my favorite thing to do. Madeline
made a smiley face with her beans and taters.
“
Maddy, your food is for eating, not for
playing.” I dr
ag the
plate down to the table.
“
It’s for you
, daddy!” She pushes the plate to me.
“
No
, Madeline. Finish your plate.”
“Smile, daddy. You need to be happy.” The
smile on her face goes from ear to ear.
I can’t help but laugh. She’s just too
darn cute. “I am happy, Maddy. Now, go on, have a bite.” I nudge
her fork into her hands and stick it in a bean, hoping she’ll
follow up. I need to concentrate for a moment, so I can have this
conversation with my troublesome guest.
“
I’m giving you a place to stay and I’ll
fix your car. The least you can do is help out a little.
I could use the
help.”
Amy is
looking at Madeline and she seems to enjoy my little girl’s
mischief, seeing her radiating face. She sighs when she realizes
I’m talking to her. “Fine. But don’t expect me to roll around in
the mud, because I’m absolutely not getting dirty.”
There she goes again; making those remarks
that make me itch to snap back. “Dang, I was just about to ask you
to give my pigs a bath.”
She winces, and I laugh. “I’m
kidding,
Amy. I don’t
even have pigs.”
She takes a breath, visibly relieved.
Getting her to do something is
apparently
freaking her
out. Maybe I should try another way. “You know what? Never mind. I
shouldn’t have asked you. Like you said, city girls aren’t really
useful on a farm.”
“
Excuse me? I can be useful when I want
to.” She starts cutting up her beef as if there’s no
tomorrow.
“Like with what?”
She cocks her head. “I can do … loads of
stuff.”
My laugh sounds more like a groan. “I bet
you can’t do half the stuff I ask you to.”
“Oh, you’re so dead wrong.”
“
Prove it.” It’s working. She’s gonna work
for me on her own decision. Wonderful. Folding my arms, I lean back
in my chair, chewing on a piece of beef.
“
Fine. I will. Tomorrow,” she says, taking
a huge bite out of her beef.
“
Deal!” Gotya.
Chapter 4
Amy
I don’t want to admit it, but all I want to
do is look at him. Find every possible excuse I have to just take a
peek. I don’t know why. I’m still recovering from my horrendous
breakup with Ronnie, and now I’m already crushing on a rancher I’ve
yet to get to know better. I can’t believe what I’m doing.
I shake my head while closing the door to
my room. It smells musty in here, and the dark green curtains make
the room look shady. Is this the guestroom? I grab my phone and
charger and plug it in, secretly hoping no one has called while my
cell was dead. I don’t think I can talk to anyone I know
yet.
Checking out the room, I let my hand slide
along the sheets and feel the bed dent under my touch. So much for
a good night sleep. Oh well, can’t complain either. I’m in a
stranger’s home, and Jack’s been sweet to offer me all this help.
I’ve never met anyone like him before. It’s as if he doesn’t mind
at all. Strange, but at the same time it almost makes me envious of
his carefree spirit.
Just thinking about him makes me
smile.
No, I shouldn’t. I just came out of a
rough relationship, I can’t just go ahead and jump into a new one.
If my heart break
s
again, I would just shrivel up and die. Besides, no way Jack would
ever fall for me. He’s sweet, kind, funny, hard-working and oh my
god handsome. What do I have? Nothing, except my curvy bum, but not
all men find that attractive. I doubt he’s the kind that
does.
Sighing, I take off my clothes and crawl
underneath the blanket. It’s warm and fuzzy, so I close my eyes to
try and catch some sleep. I need energy to get through the day
tomorrow. Prodding my pillow, I try to find a cozy spot, but I keep
twisting and turning around. One hour passes. I should really get
some sleep. Two hours pass. Nice and comfortable, sleepy sleep.
It’s already way past midnight.
Yeah, no, it ain’t happening.
Again.
I twiddle my thumbs and open my eyes.
Staring at the ceiling, I count the dots in the paint, desperate
not to think. It’s already too late. Images of Ronnie kissing
Nicole cross my mind and lock themselves in front of my eyes like
photographs. All I see is them making out. Squ
eezing shut my eyes, I pray to God to make
them disappear. Please, make them disappear. I can’t take this. I
can’t think about them.
Tears sting my eyes
, and I know I can’t stop it now.
Sniffing, my face becomes moist. I can taste my own saltiness as I
roll around to the side. My stomach growls, and I begin to feel
queasy. Everyone I know and ever cared about leaves me or hurts me.
I feel worthless.
I curl up into a ball and pull up the
blankets, trying to warm myself up. It’s so damn cold in here, but
I don’t want to just go and turn up the heater, that’d be rude. Oh,
what I’d give to be held again. To have someone to warm me up, to
embrace me and tell me everything’s going to be okay.
But it’s not. I’m alone and miserable.
I can’t stop myself from crying and
sniveling. I hope Jack can’t hear it, because I know I’m making
noise. The more I try to close off from my feelings, the more I
feel, and it’s tearing me apart.
I rip the sheets off and sit straight in
bed. I sniff and wipe the wetness from my cheeks. Sitting up makes
me feel like crap, but lying down makes me feel worse. Hairs stick
to my face, so I brush them away. I feel dirty and know I look like
hell, but I go out the door anyway. I need something to calm
down.
I softly close the door behind me and see a
light flickering down the hall. I walk to the living room and see
Jack lying on the couch. He’s cradling Madeline in one arm, his
lips on her forehead. His other hand is hanging down the couch
while holding a framed picture of a woman.