Kiss Me Hard Before You Go (11 page)

Evie pulled the curtains out of the way and saw Finch standing outside on her front porch.
What’s he doing here?

She looked down at her flimsy night shirt, grabbed a sweater off of the coat rack and put it on. She slipped into her cowboy boots and opened the door.

Finch’s white t-shirt was wrinkled and tight—showing clear definition in his arms and chest. His cheeks showed hints of rose, and he was perspiring. He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. “Your gate is open, and a few cows got out,” he said. Evie could see his chest rising and then falling flat.

“Where?” she asked.

“Down that way.” He pointed behind Evie’s head. She knew which gate it was – the one that was on the far end of the property near their fishing pond and a dirt road that only led to a few neighbors farms and nowhere else.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Thanks.” She closed the door behind her and began walking toward the barn.

“Where are you going?” he asked, running to catch up to her.

“I can’t leave them out there,” she explained. “I’m gotta get the ATV and wrangle them in.”

“Do you need help?” He continued to follow her as she pushed the barn door open.

She stopped to face him. “I don’t think you can do this,” she said, appraising him.

He folded his arms against his chest. “Try me,” he said in a challenging tone.

She shrugged and said with doubt, “Okay.” She tossed him the keys to one of the ATV’s. “Follow my lead.”

She sat down and turned the ignition, the rumbling chug, chug, chug of the engine’s motor silenced every other sound. They each turned on their headlights. Finch’s ATV’s light shined onto Evie’s back. He was thankful she wore that gosh awful sweater over that frilly frock he had dreamt about more than once the last couple of days.

She gestured with her hands, and off they sped, driving up and down the hills. Finch loved the feel of the wind blowing through his hair—the breeze against his back—as he coasted on the foothills.

They finally reached the gate, and Evie drove out onto the dirt road, leaving Finch straddling the ATV, watching her in amazement. Recent flooding rains made it difficult to navigate on the muddy terrain. She jerked hard on the steering wheel, and stood up as she pressed her foot hard against the accelerator—looking more like a horse jockey riding a horse than a farmer riding a machine.

“Sug! Sug!” she shouted at the six-hundred-pound heifers.

The obstinate cattle remained planted, unaltered by her sudden movement and barking orders.

“Yaw! Yaw!” she yelled. She turned her ATV around and headed toward them, and Finch thought she was going to run them over. She called to Finch as she moved in haste, “Get on this side!” She gestured with her hand.

He drove forward and was opposite to Evie – the cattle in between them like a game of Monkey in the Middle. His bright lights shined into the heifers’ big brown eyes. The light startled them, and they suddenly moved away from him and to the other side, with Evie right beside them. They had nowhere else to go but forward and onto the property.

“Sug! Sug!” she shouted as she forced the scared heifers onto the property. “Come on!” she yelled over her shoulder to Finch, waving her hand in the air. He drove through the open gate and reached Evie.

She let the ATV idle and jumped off, running to shut the gate behind her. Finch watched as she closed the gate and jerked on the latch, ensuring that it was shut.

She hopped back on her ATV, still standing on it as she rode up the hill. The light from Finch’s ATV shined on her golden locks of hair as it blew haphazardly, jostled by the rushes of air coming at her. She was going so fast that he was finding it hard to keep up. He pressed his foot onto the accelerator and focused on the honeyed vision in front of him.

He should have paid attention to where he was going. He felt the left side of his ATV raise a few feet off of the ground, and before he knew it, the ATV was tipping over, with him still on it.

He landed in what he thought was the softest spot he could. He felt a sense of relief, thinking it was mud, but when he looked down and saw that it was not mud, but in fact, cow manure, he moaned in disgust and shifted to the right. More manure covered his rear end. He gagged from the stench and felt the mushiness against his butt and lower back. The ATV laid on its side, the bright light shining off into the distance, showing a glimpse of the cattle they had rescued now making their way back home over the rambling hills.

Evie heard all of the commotion and quickly turned the ATV around, heading to where Finch lay. She let it idle, with the beam of light honing down on him, as she jumped off and bent over to check on him.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He could see she was concerned. The crinkle between her brows was especially prevalent. “Yeah,” he said, knowing that his ego was the only thing he had wounded.

“I told you that you weren’t cut out for this,” she admonished. She took a whiff and then looked down at him more closely. “You landed on a pile of shit!” She laughed. Hard. A strong bellowing noise came from the depths of her and surfaced – the cackle echoed into the quiet night.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s a riot,” Finch said with sarcasm.

Evie continued to laugh. “You just formed a crater on that moon pie!” she teased. She was getting carried away, saying things like “meadow muffin” and “cow pie.” She was rambling one cow joke after another. Like she had them stored for such an occasion and she couldn’t wait to use them.

He let her have her fun and finally said, “Help me up, please.” He offered his hand to her.

She grabbed a hold of it, and he pulled her down next to him, her bottom pressed into the pile of cow dung.

“This moon just got another crater,” he joked.

“You are such a butt hole!” she screamed. He couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh or cry. She wanted to do both. If her dirty looks could light a fire, the whole farm would be a hazy blaze, him included.

“That old frock of yours needs to be tossed anyway, Granny,” he kidded, lying through his teeth. He wanted to kiss the seamstress for making such a beautiful piece of fashion.

She looked down at her night gown and pulled her sweater closer around her chest, feeling his eyes burning onto her. “I’m not a Granny,” she retorted. “And your fashion sense isn’t so spectacular, either, Mister ‘I wear rock band t-shirts all the time because I think it makes me look far out,’” she said.

“Humph,” he mumbled. He pushed himself off of the ground and offered her his hand.

“No way,” she said, shaking her head.

He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t do it again. Promise.”

“I can get up on my own.” She placed her palms against the dirt and heaved herself up, standing a few feet away from Finch. “We gotta get this thing back up,” she said, tilting her head down in the direction of the ATV.

Finch bent over and struggled to lift it.

“It’ll take two of us,” she said and got on one end while he stood on the other. Together they tipped it over upright.

“Think it’s broke?” he asked, breathing heavy.

“Nah,” she breathed. “Try her out.”

He turned the ignition and the engine purred.

“See,” she said. “Turn it off,” she ordered as she moved to her ATV and turned off the ignition. Silence surrounded them, and restless crickets created an impromptu concert.

Evie walked in the direction of the fishing pond.

Finch increased his step to meet her pace. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Swimming,” she answered, like it should have been obvious to him.

“Now?”

“Unless you want cow shit on your clothes, I’d suggest you do the same thing.” She took a whiff. “You stink!”

He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. “You’re one to talk.”

Her eyes cast down bashfully, and she sniffed, realizing some of that wretched stench was coming from her.

She stomped off, failing to have a comeback. After she kicked off her boots, she took off her sweater and laid it on the ground. She trudged through the murky ground and allowed the tepid water to overcome her. Tips of her blond tresses were drenched and clung to her soppy skin. The air outside was nippier than the water. “There aren’t creepy crawlies in here if that’s what you’re afraid of!” she called to Finch.

“I’m not chicken,” he said and tore off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. He headed her way and ran into the pond, water splashed everywhere.

“Good Lord. You’re gonna wake the snakes with all the racket,” she said with frustration.

“I thought you said there weren’t critters in here,” he said, and Evie could hear a hint of fear in his statement.

“You’re scared,” she teased and grinned wide.

“A snake’s bite is worse than yours,” he said with a smirk.

“I don’t bite,” she said with a serious expression.

He swam closer to her, thankful that it was dark out and he couldn’t see much of anything. He knew that lime green night shirt was soaked, and he shoved that thought to the back of his mind, storing it for another time, maybe when he slept.

“Sure you do,” he said. “The first time I met you, you barked at me for a pile of cigarettes that I hadn’t even created.”

She couldn’t argue with him and flashed back to their first encounter, thinking how rude she was. “You’re no saint, either,” she snapped, and her tone grew softer, “I mean, you’re always trying to rile me up.”

“Rile you up?” he mocked. “You mean, get a rise out of you? Yeah, I guess I do.” He laughed to himself, and Evie noticed he made no effort to apologize.

“Well... it’s rude,” she started.

“We’ve already established that you think I’m the rudest person you’ve ever met,” he teased.

“You are,” she said it like it was a fact. “But...”

He gave an expression of curiosity and for the first time, Evie noticed a change in him. He seemed insecure, desperate to meet her approval, but maybe she read him all wrong.

“It was nice of you to help me tonight... with the cattle,” she said.

He lay back on the water and floated, staring up at the starry sky. “It’s no big deal. No need to get mushy about it.”

She splashed water at him. He wiped his eyes and swam upright. “What’d you do that for?”

“You deserved it,” she said and scowled at him.

“For what?” He wiped the remnants of water out of his eyes.

“I said thank you, and you had to be arrogant about it.”

He thought for a moment, and finally said, “You’re welcome. But there’s no need to say thanks. I did what anyone should have done.” He said it like it was plain as day or as obvious as the sky being blue. “If someone is in trouble, you help and don’t think about getting something in return.”

“Oh,” she said, blowing against the surface of the water, creating a ripple.

“Did someone else leave the gate open?” he asked.

“Why do you say that?” Her gaze met his.

He shrugged his head to the side. “Seems like something you and your dad wouldn’t do since you’ve been doing this forever, and that’s a beginners mistake,” he pointed out. “You got someone working for you that could’ve done this?”

She shook her head. “My dad thinks it’s some dumb teenaged kids playing pranks on us, but I don’t know.”

“Pranks? Like cow tipping?”

“Cow tipping is a myth. No one cow tips,” she said, rolling her eyes at him.

“Really?” he asked with surprise.

“Do all carnies smoke and drink?”

“Most, but not all,” he joked.

“See my point,” she said. “Not all farmers wear overalls and smoke corncob pipes. And we sure as hell don’t spend our time tipping over cows.”

“What do you do?” he asked with interest.

“What do you mean?”

“For fun?” he asked. “What do you do?”

“I don’t know.” She swam further away from him, hoping the distance would build a nice little sound wall, strong and sturdy enough to keep him from asking anymore questions like this one.

He swam her way, and Evie wondered where he learned how to swim so well. His arms moved like an Olympic swimmer, and his head and mouth knew where to turn, breaths taken at the most opportune time.

“Sure you do,” he pressed.

“I guess I don’t do anything worth mentioning,” she said with a tinge of sadness, looking up at Finch with her mouth cast down.

“If I lived here, I’d spend my days outside enjoying this view. I’d have a garden and would rebuild that barn – the kind of barn you see in pictures – red with white trim. And I’d have a donkey and goats,” he said, and Evie let out a laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“A donkey and goats?” she said in disbelief.

“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

“Goats are more trouble than they’re worth. And donkeys are jack asses,” she said, laughing at her pun.

“The point is, you got something wonderful here. A nice little place to call home. That’s worth a lot,” he said, and her smile faded, realizing the weight of his words. Life on the circuit didn’t equate to permanence.

She didn’t offer a comeback and allowed his words to linger. She swam away from him again and got out of the pond, trembling from the difference in temperature. Her body felt the shock instantly.

With her sweater wrapped tight around her, she peered over her shoulder. “You coming?” she asked him.

He was trying really hard not to stare. It took everything in him to turn his head, eyeballing some tree branch that swayed flimsily in the wind. He studied that tree branch like he was going to be tested on it. Those darn underwear of hers. He could see that they were hip huggers. He wanted to offer a big bear hug to whoever made them. He’d even give a quick kiss to the maker of that hideous sweater. Was there anything that didn’t look good on the girl?

She looked down at her soaked night shirt and saw the outline of her underwear. Dear God in heaven, even her nearly blind great-uncle Joseph, who had cataracts, could see that she had on floral undies.