“Why can’t you call me Vanna?”
His lips pull into a thin line as he shakes his head. “Because that’s not who you are to me, sweetheart.”
Rolling my eyes, I rest my hip against the pitchfork. I look at him questioningly, fearful of what might come out of my mouth if I speak.
“I think you should go in and shower. Let me show you around.”
“Is that so?”
He nods. “Jeremiah and I hang out at this place called Red’s, you might like it.”
“I’m underage in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t, but they don’t care and no one is sayin’ you have to drink. You can come or not, don’t matter none to me. You have fifteen minutes.”
This time he walks away and right into the barn, out of sight, but not out of mind. I don’t know how I’m going to spend day after day working with him. He’s my boss for the summer and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.
Tyler
The radio plays one of my favorite songs and by favorite I mean one that I’ll dance to at Red’s. I think my back is permanently slouched from leaning over and looking out the window for Savannah. The clock on the dashboard tells me that I’ve sat in my truck ten minutes longer than I said I would. One quick look at the front door and I know she’s not coming. If I were a betting man I’d say she went inside and asked her Aunt Sue about shopping. Sue would’ve likely played along for a few minutes, but Savannah’s smart and she’d catch on. Her aunt didn’t suggest shopping. I just wanted to get her away from the ranch so I could see if the girl I once knew was still inside. I just want to see her smile. She hasn’t done that since she arrived, granted she’s been here barely twenty-four hours, but still. A girl’s gotta smile and from what I remember, Savannah has a killer one.
I drive away without looking back. The dust cloud behind me makes it impossible to stare at the house in my rear view mirror. I should be thankful that I can’t see it. I’d probably throw the truck in reverse and go drag her out of the house kicking and screaming. Of course that means I’d have to put her over my shoulder and hold her legs down with my arm, which would undoubtedly come in contact with her ass and that would likely be my undoing. Yes, it’s a very good thing I can’t see the McGuire house right now.
Everything in my head is telling me to ignore her. To let her do her thing and not even bother making small talk. Uncle Bobby told me that she’s off to Paris as soon as the summer’s over, so getting attached only means heartache. Not that my heart beats for her or anything. But the thought of what Savannah was like when we were kids still lingers in the back of my mind. I know that Savannah is in there somewhere; she just needs to be let out. The girl I remember would’ve mounted any one of our mares for an early morning ride and would have told her uncle exactly what he can do with that chore list. Although, watching Savannah in those outlawed shorts and her aunt’s muck boots was comical, I’d rather see her dress appropriately for working on the ranch. The last thing we need is for her to hurt herself or get some pesky bugs biting up her legs. Hell, maybe she needs to be taught how to live on a ranch. I suppose living in the concrete city, you forget what it’s like to stop and smell the roses, or saddle up a horse and take a day trip out yonder. Maybe I’m just the guy to reacquaint her with life in the country, or maybe I just need to stay away from the enigma that is Savannah McGuire.
Coming to Red’s was a bad idea. Inviting Savannah to come with me was even worse. At this rate, I’m destined to screw up something major and cause an epic catastrophe or go home with someone I shouldn’t. That someone just walked into Red’s and will surely be my breaking point tonight. Red’s is packed and there ain’t a place to park that won’t make me walk a hundred yards to get in the door. When I spot Jeremiah’s truck, I park in front of him, blocking him in. I figure I’ll end up leaving before him anyway so it won’t matter. I take one look in the mirror and give myself a pep talk. I can go in, have a beer, be cordial and go home alone. Or I can go in and let Annamae walk all over me, tell me how much she misses me and let her show me a good time in my truck. Either way, I’m screwed. I slide my hat on, adjust the rim and practice my best Tyler King ‘resident cowboy’ smile. Oh yeah, that’s going to knock ‘em dead.
The music is blaring and bodies are moving on the dance floor. The constant thunk of boots hitting the wood at the same time makes the floor vibrate. There are a few girls standing on the edge waiting for a two-step and some fella to come ask them to dance. They’re all dressed similarly with their shorty shorts and cowboy boots on. I’m not usually a fan of this hoochie cowgirl style, except this is how I see Savannah dressing once she realizes she’s meant to be on the ranch. These are the city girls that come down for the weekend, slumming it. They want themselves a real cowboy, but only on the weekends when their corporate daddies are off playing golf and not watching their darling debutantes. This is where Jeremiah thrives. Me? Not so much. Unless, of course, you’re my ex and you’re blocking my way into Red’s.
I tip my hat to Annamae who has her hands firmly on her hips. “Evenin’ Annamae. Haven’t seen you at the honkytonk in some time, Rufus out of town?” I should be bitter, but I’m not. He saved me from a life of being a socialite’s husband. Annam
ae would’ve never moved to the ranch and I definitely don’t want to live where there’s traffic.
“I’ve been tryin’ to get up with you for days.”
“Really? What for?” She hasn’t left a message at my house so I know she’s up to no good. It’s just a matter of me figuring it out before it’s too late.
“I hear you have a Yankee livin’ with y’all.”
Good news travels fast around these parts, except it’s not news and Savannah’s only been here for a day. “Yeah, where’d you hear that?”
Annamae shrugs. “Around.”
“Uncle Bobby’s kin, that’s all.”
“I don’t know why you call him your uncle. He ain’t.”
“Blood isn’t the only thing to make someone your kin, Annamae. Hell, we would’ve gotten hitched and you would’ve been my kinfolk.” I shake my head at her. Her family is high cotton and all about status. No one is good enough for her family. “I gotta find Jeremiah.”
Annamae looks over her shoulder and angles her head. I look around and spot him on the dance floor being sandwiched by two redheads. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s definitely smooth.
“Have a good night, Annamae.” I leave her standing there to contemplate the meaning of life or whatever else she needs to think about.
“How do?” Della asks as she sets a beer on the bar for me. I nod in her direction, pick up my beer and spin to watch the line dancin’. Girls love it when a guy can dance, but I’m not into the synchronized dancing. Give me a two-step where I can hold my girl and let the music guide us and I’m happy. I can see Savannah and myself out there dancing. Hell, we used to dance on the porch all the time. She taught me how to two-step. I’m so much better at it now though, and I want to show her. I want to take her out there, place my hand on her neck and guide her around. I want to pull her close and let our bodies move in the same distinct motion. I want to feel her pressed against me and have my hat cover our faces when we kiss. These are all thoughts that I shouldn’t be having about Savannah.
“Ah, well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.”
“What’s wrong, sugah?” I turn at Della’s voice and hang my head. “Don’t go fallin’ for the Yankee.”