Authors: Mona Ingram
The change of buses was simple, and the next driver waved her into the front seat. “I’ll be glad to drop you off at Whiskey Jack Road,” he said, smiling at her from behind mirrored sunglasses. The bus pulled out a few minutes later and in no time at all was rolling along a narrow secondary road.
Charlie relaxed and watched the scenery roll by. She’d never quite understood why some people considered the prairies flat and uninteresting. She saw it differently, undulating gently as far as the eye could see. In some fields, the first crop of hay had already been cut and harvested. Formed into huge rolls, it made ideal perches for hawks. Unblinking, the magnificent raptors watched the bus roll by, claws firmly anchored in the hay.
“We’re coming up to your stop now,” said the driver over his shoulder. The air brakes squealed and he reached out, swung the door open. A blast of hot air hit her in the face as she jumped down, juggling her computer case and her tote bag.
The driver scanned the intersection. “Are you going to be all right here?” His brow furrowed, but she could tell he was anxious to get going.
She looked around, then gave him her most confident smile. “I’m fine. Someone is meeting me here. Thanks, though.”
“All right then.” With a brisk nod he closed the door and after looking both ways he pulled through the intersection, leaving behind a cloud of exhaust.
Blinking in the brilliance of the late afternoon sun Charlie turned slowly, looking anxiously in all directions. A small dust devil flirted with the edge of the road and then vanished. In the distance, the sound of the bus grew fainter and she clung to it as long as possible, until there was no denying that she was alone. She aimed a lethargic kick at a clump of weeds and set down her two bags.
She took out her cell phone and looked at it. Nope. No missed calls, no texts, nothing.
“What am I doing?” she said aloud, and snapped the phone closed. “Just because there’s nobody here waiting for me…” She stood up and stretched, taking in her surroundings. The stillness was unfamiliar, but surprisingly peaceful. Below her, on the far side of the road the fields sloped away, revealing the distinctive patchwork of the prairies. Behind her the land rose and she couldn’t see much beyond the crops that edged the road.
A low rumble broke the silence and Charlie turned in the direction of the sound. It wasn’t a car, and she didn’t think it was a truck either. It seemed to be coming toward her at a fairly fast clip from the high side of the road. A cloud of dust rose into the air, keeping pace with the sound and she realized that there must be some sort of an access road running through the middle of the field.
The sound grew louder and she watched in amazement as an ATV burst out of the field, careening around the end of the planted area. It came to a stop just above her.
The dust cloud had a life of its own. It billowed down, engulfing her and she waved a hand in front of her face. The growl of the motor stopped abruptly. She took a step backward as a tall figure jumped down. Impossibly white teeth gleamed in a tanned face and the man pushed back his hat, revealing eyes the colour of the brilliant blue chicory flowers growing along the edge of the road.
“You must be Charlotte.” He grinned down at her.
“And you’re late.” She regretted the sharpness of her words the moment she’d uttered them, but he looked so cocky standing here with his hands braced against his hips. To make things worse, he was wearing a cowboy hat. Not the kind the tourists wore during the Calgary stampede, the kind that ranch hands wore. The kind that made her weak in the knees.
As she spoke the light went out of his eyes. “If I didn’t like your aunt, I wouldn’t be here at all.” Gone was the smile, the friendly, welcoming tone of voice. Too late she realized that he probably had better things to do. He slid down the incline to road level and pointed at her bags.
“I’ll help you with those.” Her bags weren’t large, but they were heavy. He hoisted them as though they weighed nothing.
She took a moment to study him. He was wearing a faded denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up and she couldn’t help but notice the ripple of muscles flexing just below the skin, and the way the hair on his arms shone golden in the lowering sun.
She tore her eyes away. “You don’t expect me to ride on that, do you?” She glanced warily at the ATV.
He bounded back up the incline and swung the bags onto the rack at the rear of the machine.
“Not unless you want to go to Janelle’s.” He proceeded to strap down her bags then stood there, looking as though he was trying to make up his mind about something. Finally he stuck out his hand. “Come on, I’ll pull you up. By the way, I’m Jason.”
She ignored the outstretched hand. “I can manage thanks.” She headed up the small incline, but her sandals slipped on the dried soil and she lost her footing. She tried again, and this time she almost made it to level ground before sliding back.
He watched her, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin. “Are you always this stubborn?” he asked, offering his hand again, wiggling his fingers impatiently.
She placed her hand in his, and in one effortless motion he pulled her up. “So I’m told” she replied, staring into his eyes. The pale irises were rimmed with a darker blue, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.
“Yeah, I can see that” he said softly. His gaze drifted slowly over her face and she flushed uncomfortably, realizing that she hadn’t retrieved her hand. Removing it from his grip, she gulped down some air. “Sorry if I was a bit abrupt back there. I’m not usually such a witch.”
He turned toward the ATV, mumbling inaudibly.
“What did you say?” she challenged.
“I said that remains to be seen.” His eyes flashed. “I mean, I break away from work to come and get you as a favour to Janelle and you give me nothing but grief.” He threw a leg over the ATV and patted the seat behind him. “Hop on, and hold onto me.” He started the motor and she scrambled onto the back seat. Broad shoulders blocked her view and sandy blonde hair curled against his collar. She placed her hands tentatively on his shoulders and he turned his head, speaking over his shoulder.
“Grab my waist,” he said. His eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks. Half the women in Calgary would kill for those eyelashes.
She moved her hands to his waist. His body was hard and muscular, and for one crazy moment she wondered what he’d look like with no shirt on. Whoa! Where had that come from?
He grabbed her hands, pulled them firmly toward the front, and patted them gently. “Okay?” he asked.
She nodded, aware that he couldn’t see her, but her throat had gone dry.
“All right, then we’re off.” The machine surged forward and Charlie’s heart raced in synch with the rumbling motor. If she’d had time to think about it, she’d realize that her racing heart had nothing to do with the excitement of the ATV ride and everything to do with the man in front of her.
They sped along the edge of the field and in spite of the discomfort of bone-jarring bounces and the terror of the breakneck speed, the ride was exhilarating. The machine plunged down into a low spot and Charlie slid forward, her face coming to rest against Jason’s back. For one irrational moment she wondered if she could bottle his smell and then they were racing up the other side, and she was forced to tighten her grip against the taut muscles of his abdomen.
The ATV climbed for about a hundred yards then crested the top of a ridge. Jason slowed the vehicle and Charlie gasped at the beauty of the land flowing into the distance. Below them, tucked into a cluster of trees, a farmhouse appeared like something out of a fairy tale.
“That’s Janelle’s place,” Jason shouted over the muted roar of the motor. “She’s a cool lady.”
Charlie focused on the house and something stirred deep within her. It was painted white, with a steeply angled dark green roof and matching green shutters. A wrap-around verandah completed the structure, and a picture of comfortable furniture flashed through her mind. Was it a memory from her visit as a child or were her extraordinary abilities kicking in? She didn’t know, but the house seemed to open its arms to her, urging her to come closer and discover its secrets.
Jason gave her a few moments to take in the scene and then continued down toward the farm at a reduced speed.
Charlie studied the layout of the property as they approached. Beyond the house stood an empty corral, some small outbuildings and a sturdy red barn with white trim. Beside the barn, a weeping willow hung over a small pond and as they drew closer she spotted some large birds floating on the water.
Jason circled the yard before pulling up at the back door.
“Are those ducks?” she asked tentatively as she climbed down from the ATV. Now that she was here she felt clumsy and out of place. “On the pond…those brown ones and that white one.” Her slacks were coated with dust and she brushed at them self-consciously.
He gave her an odd look.
“What?” she said defensively.
He shook his head “For a minute there I thought you were kidding.” He glanced toward the pond and frowned. “Yes those are ducks but I suppose you’re not used to seeing that kind. These are domestic ducks. Some people love duck eggs and others think that roast duck is a real treat.”
“Duck eggs?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, and let me tell you they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
“Why?”
“Because ducks are sneaky.”
“Surely…”
“No, trust me. They’re sneaky. They can find hiding places for their eggs you’d never think of looking.” He was grinning now “Plus they lay their eggs at different times from the hens. It’s a constant battle.”
Movement in the nearby vegetable garden caught Charlie’s eye. “Chickens. Now those I recognize. Are there more?”
He gestured expansively. “There are a few dozen around here somewhere. Janelle gives them the run of the yard, and they don’t wander too far. She has regular customers for the eggs. Let’s see, in addition to the ducks and chickens, she has a horse which is out in the pasture, and a cat.” He looked over her shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “Here comes Thomas now.”
“Thomas?”
“Yeah. Thomas The Cat when he’s being formal, but Tomcat to his friends.” The cat brushed up against his legs and he crouched down and scratched the cat behind his ears. “Hello boy.” His voice was low and affectionate and a pang of envy caught Charlie by surprise.
He looked up at her and for a moment she wondered if he was reading her thoughts. Their gazes locked for what seemed like forever, neither willing to look away.
“Charlie!” Janelle’s voice broke the spell and they both looked toward the verandah. Her aunt stood there, balancing on a pair of crutches. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you, but I see you made it all right.” She smiled at Jason. “I don’t know what I would do without this guy.”
Charlie ran lightly up the broad, low steps and gave her aunt a hug. Janelle’s hair smelled faintly of lemon, and she carried with her the scent of herbs. Charlie closed her eyes, inhaling the delightful mix.
“You must be tired! Have you eaten? What about something to drink?” She headed through the door leading into the kitchen. “Come on, Jason. You must be thirsty too. I’ve never known you to refuse a glass of my lemonade.”
Swept along by her aunt’s energy and enthusiasm Charlie found herself in the kitchen of the farmhouse. Even though her aunt lived here alone, she sensed the echoes of other voices, laughing and talking around the kitchen table. An old teapot sat in the middle of the table, crammed with a bunch of lavender.
Jason lowered her bags to the floor and his eyes darted from Charlie to her aunt. “I’d better get going. I promised to check on the cattle.”
Janelle pulled a large glass pitcher from the fridge. “At least have a glass of lemonade” She poured some of the pale liquid and slivers of ice clinked against the tall glass.
Jason downed it appreciatively, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he drank. Charlie took a small sip of hers, hiding behind the glass. The lemonade was delicious, but her throat still felt dry as she watched him.