Back Country (Country Duet Book 2) Read online

  “Excuse us.” I flip up the welding helmet to see two men at the entrance of the shop.

  I look over to Dave, who’s staring at them as well. Not out of character, he puts his head back down, focusing on the parts in his hands and completely ignores them. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Dave, it’s that he is not a people person.

  “Our truck got stuck down at the motorcycle track, and we need some help.”

  Dave doesn’t acknowledge them, so naturally, they look to me. Familiar pangs of embarrassment stream through me. You’d think I would’ve had thick skin by now, used to Dave’s ignorant behavior.

  “We could use a tow rope and some help.”

  Once again, the statement goes unrecognized by Dave. The tense situation thickens with each second of silence.

  “I have a truck,” I admit after a long pause.

  “Any chance you could help us?” he asks.

  Metal clambers to the fractured cement floor, sending a piercing sound resonating throughout the shop. The men jump in surprise.

  “What are they saying?” Dave turns to me asking.

  “They need help…”

  He doesn’t wait for me to finish my sentence before tearing into the men standing in the doorway.

  “Are you paying this boy?” Dave growls. “Didn’t think so. Get the fuck lost.”

  I stand there blinking in shock. The other two men, mimicking my gesture. I can hear their internal thoughts and dialogue scream out to me. I’m guessing it’s a response they hadn’t been expecting.

  “Sorry, sir.”

  Dave cranes his neck to look at me. I know he couldn’t hear them, but also know translating for him will do no good.

  “Get the fuck out. This is private property, and it’s illegal for you assholes to be on it. Get the fuck out,” he roars.

  The two men turn and leave. Even though this has happened a handful of times now, I’ll never feel comfortable during it. I open my mouth and then close it, knowing it will do no good talking to him. The first day back at Dave’s is just like the good old times, with nothing changing.

  “Let’s call it a day,” Dave announces after another hour of work.

  “Sounds good.” I nod to him at the perfect stopping point.

  He only takes a few steps, before I pick him up. His bones grinding so loud, are mixed with his groans of pain. The only change on the farm is Dave’s health. His body worsening day by day, leaving him hopeless.

  I scoop him up in my arms with no warnings, and just like all the other times he doesn’t protest. His scruff has grown back in, making me wonder how long it’s been since he showered. If were a betting man, I’d guess the last time was the day he left the nursing home.

  “Dinner?” I ask, placing him in the recliner.

  “Got a shake here.”

  “Dave your fridge is filled with fresh food and most of it’s going to waste. All you have to do is warm it up.”

  “No shit,” he replies.

  Dave’s exhausted from our day out in the shop, so I think better of engaging in an argument with him, and heat him up a meal instead. You’d think he’d fight against it, but he doesn’t. He begins slurping it down. While he eats, I make my way to his bedroom. The bottles are stacked deep once again, and there’s a pot next to his bed. There’s a bucket with a lid.

  I recognize the bucket right away. Before I left to go home, he asked me to buy him four to put food in, so it didn’t stink up the house. Of course, I bought him several of them, always doing what he asked.

  With caution, I twist the lid and lift it. This time there’s no warning before the combined smell hits me. The smell so pungent, I step back gagging, feeling my stomach twist in pain. He’d went from using the bottles to also using the bucket. But with rotting food in it, it created a stench like I’ve never smelled. I race to the bathroom while fighting to steady the immediate reflex of gagging, but it doesn’t help. I barely make it to the toilet before I lose the contents of my stomach.

  I’ve seen, smelled, and been elbow deep in nasty situations on the ranch, but nothing could have prepared me for that. It takes me long moments before I’m able to go back to Dave’s room and finish cleaning it up. I strip the bedding from his bed, then toss it in the washer.

  Dave’s dozing off in his recliner by the time I get back to him.

  “Up for a shower?” I ask him, tapping his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” His voice is groggy.

  Even though it’s been months, we easily go through our routine of showering him. Once he’s dressed in his signature black t-shirt and sweatpants, I shave him without him having to ask. The smile lightening up his face is contagious as the final swipe of the razor runs over his cheek.

  It’s funny how this time it’s second nature shaving him, unlike the first time. I didn’t hesitate a second before doing it. Taking a small step back, I grin down at Dave, then spin my trucker hat backwards on my head. “Looking good, old man.”

  “Better keep that hot piece of ass close to you, Hunter or I’ll nab her.”

  I still haven’t had the heart to tell him about Teale. Each syllable would slice my tongue, leaving my heart bleeding on the floor.

  “The bucket?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Couldn’t make it to the bathroom and it holds more than the bottles,” he shrugs.

  I don’t miss the hint of embarrassment in his tone and it’s the first and only time I’ve seen it play out on his features. It doesn’t last long before Dave strikes.

  “I pay you damn good money, Hunter.”

  “Dave.” I bite down on my bottom lip, going for the kill. “I get it. You love this place. I, better than anyone, know this, but you don’t deserve to live like this either.”

  “Hunter.” He rises slowly from the toilet, stubborn as fuck. “Go if you don’t like it. Just leave. It’s my way or no way.”

  I step closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Fine. Just know there are options.”

  He growls.

  “I’ll wash out the bucket for you.”

  He nods. Any other human being would toss that damn five-dollar bucket and buy a new one. But to Dave throwing away that bucket and wasting his money would be the biggest crime.

  After a long day at Dave’s all I want is a hot shower and sleep. I forgot how exhausting it is to take care of him, but I will never leave his side. I worried about the man being on his own for two and half months. Flashing lights up on the edge of the road catch my attention and immediately pulls back an old memory. Teale on the side of the road. The first time we met.

  I slow down recognizing the two men from the shop. Shit. It’s been hours, and they’re still stranded. All four wheels of their truck sunk deep in fresh mud. When they realize who I am, I can sense their apprehension.

  “Sorry, about pissing off your Grandpa,” one of the men says first.

  “I just work for him and don’t feel bad, Dave doesn’t like anyone.”

  “You could say that again,” the other mutters.

  “Hey.” I give a head jerk. “I’ve got a tow rope in the back.”

  The men finally relax when they realize I was here to help and not be a dick like Dave. They’ve been stranded for hours in an area with no cell service. After a few good pulls, their truck broke free from the thick mud. I made sure it fired up before leaving.

  “Nice bikes.” I point to their machines.

  “Thanks. You ride?”

  I nod. “I do. Actually, just traded my old one in for a 2013 KTM 350 SX-F.”

  Both of their eyes light up. “Damn, that’s a hell of a machine.”

  “I’ve been wanting to race for a while and have more time this year to ride up here.”

  “Nice.”

  The two men shake my hand, and we go our separate ways.

  4

  Hunter

  “Chase your dreams, but always know the road that’ll lead you home again.”

  - Tim McGraw

  Th
e music pumps throughout the party house, making me regret ever coming here. I knew it would be a mistake. Hell, this was never my scene to begin with. For a moment, I figured anything would be better than laying in my bed hoping to smell Teale.

  “Beer?” Connor hands me a cold one.

  I take it without a second thought. My apartment is only a few blocks away and an easy walk home. The bitter taste of the beer goes down smooth, while soothing away some of the aches.

  I remain in the corner watching the other college students bump and grind. Crowd watching is entertaining, and quite simple to pick out who is going to later get their bump and grind on behind closed doors. Burton would be in heaven right now, and the life of the party. He’d have girls hanging off both his arms and anywhere else. It makes me smile imagining him here.

  I should put myself out there and fight to forget the woman who broke my heart. The thought has crossed my mind a few times, but I don’t roll that way. It’s not me. Teale taught me the best lesson in life, and that’s to not hand over your heart willingly because it never gets returned in the same shape.

  “Denny’s,” Connor’s blonde bimbo hollers.

  The crowd of friends surrounding me all agree, but on the walk there, we lose several who discreetly sneak off. This part of college is just not for me. We all settle in a u-shaped booth. The poor waitress blushes several times at Connor’s crude comments, but all in all, she’s a good sport about it.

  “I’m Chloe.”

  I look over to the girl sitting next to me.

  “I’m in a few of your classes,” she continues.

  Her blonde hair tumbles over her shoulder and down the front of her chest. Her eyes are a vibrant blue, and I fight hard to recall her.

  “Hunter.” I nod.

  She holds her hand to shake, as the rest of the booth rattles on in their own conversation.

  “You don’t recognize me, do you?” She asks, tucking her hand back in her lap after we shake.

  It was an awkward action, and now even worse, since it seems she’s reading my facial cues like an open book.

  “Sorry, I don’t,” I finally admit.

  “You always keep to yourself in class.” She turns slightly, so we are facing each other. “I get it I’m shy, but figured since we are both here and sitting next to each other, why not?”

  “Appreciate your honesty.”

  The apples of her cheeks flare with a light pink as she shrugs. She wasn’t lying about being shy. It’s refreshing talking to someone who isn’t all about partying and hooking up. We place our order then turn back to one another, blocking out the rest of the table.

  “So, what’s your major, Chloe?” I take a long drink from my Mountain Dew.

  “Ag Business, and how can you drink that stuff?” She wrinkles her nose and points to the cup in my hand.

  A pang of agony slices through me, remembering Teale and our conversations about Mountain Dew. Everything reminds me of her, but I recover quickly, brushing it off.

  “It’s tasty.” I wink at her. “How do you drink that shit?”

  “Water?” She raises her eyebrows in confusion.

  “Yeah, water.” I lean in to whisper in her. “It’s boring, shy Chloe.”

  I don’t miss the shiver that rushes over her skin, or unsteady breathing. The flare of excitement between us is more thrilling than I thought it would be. Once our food is served, I keep a hand on the top of her leg under the table. Chloe finishes before I do and reaches down to lace her fingers into mine.

  “Want to go?” I turn my head and ask her.

  She wordlessly nods.

  So wrapped up in the moment, we don’t tell our friends goodbye as we walk out into the night.

  “Are you sure you didn’t want to go to that other party?” I ask as we walk down the sidewalk.

  “No, it’s really not my scene. Just sitting in my dorm room night after night gets old though.”

  I grunt, understanding what she’s talking about all too well. “I hear you.”

  She reaches in her back pocket, pulling out her cell phone. “It’s still early.”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “Not even ten o’clock yet.”

  “Ice cream?” Chloe steps further into my side, causing me to drop her hand.

  The night air is chilly. It feels great to me, but her tiny shivers and the goosebumps racing over skin, tell me a different story for her. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her into my side.

  We play our own version of twenty questions on the walk. By the time I pull open the door to the ice cream shop, we know each other’s favorite colors, food, where we grew up, and how many siblings we have. Chloe grew up in Eastern Idaho on an Angus ranch. Our love for our own ranches and riding horses, makes everything flow naturally between us.

  There’s no tension, not even sexual. Chloe isn’t out for a one night stand to get her daggers into me. It’s simple. She’s a shy girl who took a chance talking to someone who she normally wouldn’t.

  “Ladies first.” I place my hand at the small of her back guiding her to the counter.

  “What can I get you?” The worker asks from behind.

  “One scoop of vanilla, please.”

  I lean over Chloe with my front pressing into her back and whisper into her ear. “You’re so boring. Water and now vanilla ice cream? Live a little, shy one.”

  Chloe turns her head to face me and our lips graze, shocking both of us. I lick my lips and then go for it. Our lips press together, gliding along one another until we hear someone clear their throat.

  Chloe’s face is fire red with embarrassment. She buries her face in her hands. I pull her back closer to me, holding her in my arms. It doesn’t feel right, like it did with Teale, but it also doesn’t feel wrong. The point being I’m feeling something other than pain for the first time in a long time.

  “Anything else on this one?” The worker asks.

  “She’s feeling a bit dangerous tonight. Toss some sprinkles on that.”

  Chloe giggles in my arms.

  “And for you?”

  “Waffle cone with a scoop of Rocky Road and Grasshopper.”

  We walk down to the cash register with me holding her from the back. I don’t let go of her until both of our ice creams are ready, and I need to pay. Chloe tries to get out her debit card, but I beat her to it.

  “That’s disgusting.” She points to my ice cream as she slides into a booth.

  I glide right in next to her until the sides of our legs are pressing against each other.

  “And that is boring.” Using my spoon, I steal a scoop of her ice cream.

  “Hey.” She swats my hand, giggling.

  That sound does something to me. We both lean in closer, more interested in kissing again than eating ice cream. It takes everything inside of me to not compare Chloe to Teale and just enjoy the moment.

  The bell above the door shrills throughout the shop letting us know we are no longer the only customers. We both pull apart slowly, not breaking eye contact until the squeal of young child distracts us.

  In slow motion, I turn to look at the door. Big mistake. Teale stands frozen in the doorway with her little girl tugging on her hand. Her gaze fixed on me. All of the color drained from her face, but the hurt heavy on her features. My heart sinks while my stomach grows thick with sickness.

  “Mommy.” The sweet, little girl tugs harder on her mom’s hand. “Hurry.”

  She still doesn’t move, drinking me in. Chloe clears her throat next to me.

  “Are you okay, Hunter?” She grabs my hand on the top of the table.

  I turn to look at her, immediately missing the vision of Teale. “Fine.”

  “What just happened?” She whispered.

  “But Mommy you promised ice cream,” a whiney voice floats through the shop.

  “Hunter,” Chloe urges.

  “Let’s go,” is all I offer.

  We both slide out of the booth with our ice cream in tow, and walk straight out of
the door. My self-discipline slips once the door swings shut. I peer back through the glass and catch Teale still staring at me. She slowly reaches up and wipes away a lone tear.

  I walk Chloe back to her dorm room in silence. Holding her earlier felt good, the kissing sweet, and her company welcome, but now it all seems so damn wrong. I fucked up. It’s now that I realize I will never get over the woman who showed me how to love, and broke me in the end. She was my beginning and my end.

  5

  Hunter

  “The greatest conflicts are not between two people, but between one person and himself.”

  -Garth Brooks

  “Just go in there and tell them you do business with them.”

  “Dave, I’m not going to lie to get you free calendars. Let’s just go to the dollar store.”

  “Hell no.” He slaps the dash of my car. “I need thirty of them. The dollar store don’t carry the kind I want.”

  Dave has me on another wild goose chase. He has calendars all over his house, and not just any calendars, but the free ones. And in true Dave fashion, just not free calendars, but mini ones with the top half sticky to put on the dash of trucks or tractors. Most agriculture business give them away to their patrons.

  “Tell them you need thirty, and we do lots of business with them,” Dave growls again.

  “Have you ever bought anything here?” I point to the storefront.

  “Hunter,” he warns.

  “Fine,” I mutter, shutting the door a little too hard.

  The store isn’t busy which is a plus right now.

  “How can I help you?” A salesman behind the counter asks.

  This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve done, to date. I thought Costco was horrible, but Dave has proven me wrong once again. Once the man gets an idea in his head, there’s no way of talking him out of it.

  “My Grandpa has bought some equipment from you, and he’d like some of your business calendars.”