My eyes open in the morning and I take in a deep breath. Looking over to the nightstand, I realize that I have beaten the alarm today. Sliding the sheet off, I set my feet down to the floor and stretch out before standing up. I walk to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee water for my French press, setting an old stoneware cup beside the pot on the stove.
I swagger my way to the shower and start the water, giving it a minute to warm up before getting in. Leg in to test the water, I move slow under the streams of water and grab up my wash cloth, filling it with soap.
Bringing the rag to my chest, I work the lather over my torso and wipe away yesterday's sweat and dust and gaze down to watch it trailing down in currents and leaving clean flesh one section at a time. Over my arms, around my neck, across my back and then to my stomach, I scrub up and make my body an open canvas for a new day of sweat and dust. Moving down my stomach and to my hips, I stop for a second.
I see that tough but sweet smile in my mind. I see faded denim and tanned skin. I see a feminine but hardworking hand wrapped around a wet glass of lemonade, the condensation from the glass beading up and running over her fingers and painted nails. My breathing slows a bit. I wash my way up my legs and see in my mind that blanket on her lap and wonder what all must lay beneath it, beneath the blanket, beneath the faded jeans, where may each out of view freckle land on that soft skin? My head goes to the top button of her Wrangler shirt and to the places I was too withdrawn to gaze down to yesterday. The soapy wash cloth slides up my inner thigh and to my manhood.
A screaming whistle fills the air and I realize that the water for coffee's ready. Shaking my head, I rinse off all of the soap and step out of the shower, grab the towel and dry off from head to toe. I know that my mind has wandered briefly into dangerous territory and I'd better just let that lay where it started as not to mess up a good thing. I throw on my jeans, slide into my tall boots and head to the stove to pour the boiling water over the grounds. While the coffee steeps, I finish getting dressed.
Out to the back porch with coffee in hand, I spark up my morning smoke and watch the sun rising over the hills. Every moment I get to take this into my senses is a moment cherished. My usual routine only allows me to see it from the road as I'm rushing down the freeway to work. The early morning has proven to be another of life's gifts.
The rest of the coffee is poured into a travel mug, I grab up my keys and lock the front door behind me as I make my way to the pickup to start the day. Key into the ignition, foot on the clutch, I bring the motor to life and let it idle for a minute or two while I search through the radio stations. An old country tune plays that I haven't heard in years and I go to turn it up a notch just as the radio cuts out on me. Swearing a little, I push the off button and pull it into reverse. Out the driveway and onto the road, I move into the rays of the morning sun over the hill, moving to meet it as it rises higher, the directions on paper in the seat beside me. The paper never leaves the seat. I make my way down each road and past each landmark from memory without having to consult the scribbled notes.
Pulling up beside the horse trailer, the door opens and she calls out to me, "Come on in, honey! I aint no straw-boss. I have coffee on and I plan to feed you first. Hope you can tolerate the dogs." Two dogs break past her and scamper outside to greet me. They are both Blue Heelers and are barking with their heads low. As they come closer, I notice that their little butts are shaking and their tails wagging. I lower an open hand for them to smell so they can check me out and make sure I pass inspection before I enter their home. Wet noses in my palm and excited little smiles assure me that I have been granted entry.
I step up to the porch and inside the front door. Jo is over by the stove and pouring the coffee out of an antique percolator. She's wearing a loose t-shirt and cut-off shorts, barefooted and I notice a floral tattoo on her calf. I also notice that this lady has got an amazing pair of legs! My eyes sneak up her lines and hover at the backs of her thighs just below her tattered hemline. She turns to ask me what I take in my coffee, so my gaze shoots to the cabinets in a flash, not wanting to get busted by the boss-lady.
"I just drink mine black. Always have."
"Luke, I like you more already. Breakfast will be ready in a minute. Have a seat, honey." I sit and she crosses the floor while holding two cups of coffee, setting mine down on the table beside my hand. "You're early but not too early. I like that too. This is gonna work out just fine, boy."
Out the corner of my eye, I find that she's not wearing a bra and has apparently got nipples almost as big around as my fingertip and hard enough to cut glass. There's no way in Hell I'm gonna turn the day ugly by lingering for more than a stolen glance, so I look deep into the rich liquid and steam that rises from it in the cup at my hand.
The room fills with the scent of peppered bacon frying. This scent has the power to melt any man to a pool of butter, the ones it doesn't...I worry about. Toast pops up and is soon buttered and on two plates followed by eggs and topped with bacon. Pinch me! I haven't had this kind of morning in longer than memory serves me. This is life at its simplest and best!
Two plates in her hands, she moves to the table and after setting them into their places, pulls the seat over from mine and sits down. "I was hoping that you'd start with the trees this morning, then the fence." She gives a scornful look to one of the dogs as it has raised its nose a little too close to the edge of the table. It goes to lay down, sighs and watches us under hardworking eyebrows as we continue with breakfast. "Past that, Hell, maybe see if you can reset the weed to plant ratio I have going on out in the garden. That ought to be enough for you to get going on for the day. If you finish it up, I'll throw a dart at something else on the list." Smiling to me with her eyes, the steam from her coffee fogs her glasses for a moment as she takes a strong pull from it and drinks it down.
After finishing a breakfast that was so good it almost made me volunteer to finish the rest of the day free of charge, I looked up to the clock over the stove. 6:30 in the morning and I've already had a more memorable day than most of my weekends in two days combined. She takes her plate with some scraps left on it and nods to the dogs. They march up to her, sit silently like little soldiers and happily take the treats when she gives them the okay. She sets the dishes in the sink and slides her feet into some leather mules that lay by the table.
"Come on, Luke. I'll show you around. Don't take this wrong, but I'd like to hold your arm as I hate that damn cane the doc's got me set up with." With two Heelers close behind her, she leads me through the screen door and out to the shaded back patio with her hand wrapped around the crook of my arm. I'm careful to move at her pace. Beyond the patio there is a garden with rich, dark soil. I see the trees that lay over the broken fence boards and start sizing up the work for the day. She leads me to the barn and goes over with me where the tools are at, reminding me that there is beer in the fridge if I change my mind on that subject since she tells me she may drive me to drink before the day's through.
I gather the tools and supplies I'll need to start the work on the trees and the fence and head back outside, walking with her slowly as she takes my arm.
We stop and I set the tools down in the yard. She asks me if I'd mind helping her get over to the lounge chair as she'd like to stay the Hell out of the house for awhile today and get some sun. I walk her there and get her settled in. She takes a book in her hand from the table beside her and lets me know that she'll be there if I get stuck on anything, need her to make the dogs behave or if I just plain get sick of hanging out and want to take the money and run. Laughing, I thank her and turn to get to work.
Getting to the trees, I see the trunks aren't damaged too bad and I start making things right for them again. Moving between the shed and the trees, I get some stakes and drive them deep into the soil, fashion some straps to secure the trunks to them and lift them into place, pulling and adjusting until they are upright and secured.
Through this chore, Jo was reading her book and took a short break to grab a bottle of lotion from beneath the chair and spread it over her skin. As much as I was trying to pay attention to what I was doing, I couldn't help but be completely distracted. Those long legs all slathered in lotion and glowing in the sun, her breasts moving gently beneath her shirt as she basted her limbs with SPF, it was all I could do not to just lean against my tools and marvel at her. I thought better of it but did enjoy the glances I was sneaking. She resumed her spot in the book and kept reading until she had fallen into a nap, book on her stomach and my eyes caressing her oiled body. Through it all, I managed to get the trees shored up.
Just a shovel to fix the soil around the roots and I could move on to the garden fence. I headed to the barn to swap out tools, was making my way back to hit the dirt and saw something that stopped me in silence. A Western Diamondback Rattler had made its way to the base of Jo's chair and was laying just by her bottle of lotion while it was enjoying some shade. I stayed silent, grabbed the shovel, moved swiftly and made my way behind the head of the chair. Before it could rattle, I had the blade of the shovel planted into the neck of that snake and I applied firm downward pressure until the rattler was in two parts, making a crunching sound in the rocks as my shovel went through.
Jo's head jumped, her hand went beneath her loose top and returned to the air in a flash with a pistol that was pointed straight to my gut. "Come again, kid? I was born at night but not last night." She stared into my soul through my eyes and had a tone that was as serious as a heart attack.
"I...I....um...just". I couldn't form the words as I just looked down at my shovel with the head of the snake in the bowl of it. She glanced down briefly to see it and that the body was in the spot her hand would find it in when she went for more sunscreen.
