also required cleaning and feeding.
She spent the next hour finding the feed to add to his feeder. Jack was one trifling dude, she’d decided. She needed to purchase more feed. She needed cleaning supplies, too. A trip to town was required. She’d spotted a feed and tractor supply on her way through town yesterday.
Everything around this place was in short supply; why should she be surprised at that. She reached for the wheelbarrow and rake, rolled them over closer to the stall door. She hadn’t cleaned out a stall in who knew when, looking down at her fancy tennis shoes and skinny jeans—cute for man hunting, but not so easy to work in.
It took her about an hour. After locating her supplies, she added water to the horse’s bucket, restocked his feed, added hay and put him back in his stall when she was done.
She sighed, looking around the stable. This must have been Jack’s other hangout, when he grew tired of being inside. It looked similar to the house; same trash everywhere—on the ground, same magazines of women stacked into a corner, same empty take-out food containers, same empty liquor bottles.
She sighed again and headed back inside.
#
Saturday evening.
Carter looked around the kitchen, impressed with her efforts. After taking care of the horse with no name, she’d driven into town and purchased some cleaning supplies, feed, miscellaneous supplies for the horse and finally, a basic supply of food for herself.
The afternoon had been one continuous pickup of trash, magazines and mail. She’d sorted the magazines into stacks on the back porch, along with Jack’s mail, ending up with three hip-high piles. She needed to go through the mail for some signs of where trifling Jack might have taken off to, but that was a tomorrow or the day-after job.
She surveyed the kitchen again, and marveled at the cleanliness of it, finally. She brewed another pot of coffee, poured herself a cup and went out onto the back porch. She glanced over and saw Rafael. She lifted her hand to wave, but caught herself mid-wave and stopped. He stood there for a second as if considering what to do now that they’d seen each other.
Having come to a decision she guessed, she watched as he walked out his drive, crossed the street, hopped her fence and was making his way to her back porch. She looked around at the stack of magazines, thought for a second about covering them up, but then thought screw
him and what he thought anyway
.
“So this morning wasn’t enough? You thought I might need more of your charming personality,” she said when he was within earshot. She stood in the doorway, screen door open, arms crossed at her chest, coffee cup in hand, staring at his approach.
“Actually, I’m here for my hat and my bat. Lost them both in the one-sided scuffle with you Friday night,” he said with that smug smile. She was beginning to dislike it intensely.
“I found them. Thought about throwing them away, but then decided against it. I heard that fighters or was it hunters like to keep track of their kills with tokens. Wasn’t sure you would want any reminders of your beat down,” she said, her smile all sweetness.
He laughed. “And here I’d thought to apologize for my earlier comments. They were borderline rude, but maybe not now.”
“Borderline?”
“Borderline,” he said.
“You were rude,” she said, looking him over from her perch above him on the steps. “I accept your apology and if you’ll wait here, I’ll bring your hat and bat out to you.”
“Why thank you,” he said, again with that smug smile.
He watched her as she walked away.
Nice body
, he thought again. She liked her shorts short, and now that he’d looked his fill, so did he. He walked up the back steps, opened the back door and stepped inside the porch. It was homey, maybe even cozy. There was a small couch that had seen better days, flanked by a coffee and side table. There was a light overhead, but it wasn’t very bright. It
She spent the next hour finding the feed to add to his feeder. Jack was one trifling dude, she’d decided. She needed to purchase more feed. She needed cleaning supplies, too. A trip to town was required. She’d spotted a feed and tractor supply on her way through town yesterday.
Everything around this place was in short supply; why should she be surprised at that. She reached for the wheelbarrow and rake, rolled them over closer to the stall door. She hadn’t cleaned out a stall in who knew when, looking down at her fancy tennis shoes and skinny jeans—cute for man hunting, but not so easy to work in.
It took her about an hour. After locating her supplies, she added water to the horse’s bucket, restocked his feed, added hay and put him back in his stall when she was done.
She sighed, looking around the stable. This must have been Jack’s other hangout, when he grew tired of being inside. It looked similar to the house; same trash everywhere—on the ground, same magazines of women stacked into a corner, same empty take-out food containers, same empty liquor bottles.
She sighed again and headed back inside.
#
Saturday evening.
Carter looked around the kitchen, impressed with her efforts. After taking care of the horse with no name, she’d driven into town and purchased some cleaning supplies, feed, miscellaneous supplies for the horse and finally, a basic supply of food for herself.
The afternoon had been one continuous pickup of trash, magazines and mail. She’d sorted the magazines into stacks on the back porch, along with Jack’s mail, ending up with three hip-high piles. She needed to go through the mail for some signs of where trifling Jack might have taken off to, but that was a tomorrow or the day-after job.
She surveyed the kitchen again, and marveled at the cleanliness of it, finally. She brewed another pot of coffee, poured herself a cup and went out onto the back porch. She glanced over and saw Rafael. She lifted her hand to wave, but caught herself mid-wave and stopped. He stood there for a second as if considering what to do now that they’d seen each other.
Having come to a decision she guessed, she watched as he walked out his drive, crossed the street, hopped her fence and was making his way to her back porch. She looked around at the stack of magazines, thought for a second about covering them up, but then thought screw
him and what he thought anyway
.
“So this morning wasn’t enough? You thought I might need more of your charming personality,” she said when he was within earshot. She stood in the doorway, screen door open, arms crossed at her chest, coffee cup in hand, staring at his approach.
“Actually, I’m here for my hat and my bat. Lost them both in the one-sided scuffle with you Friday night,” he said with that smug smile. She was beginning to dislike it intensely.
“I found them. Thought about throwing them away, but then decided against it. I heard that fighters or was it hunters like to keep track of their kills with tokens. Wasn’t sure you would want any reminders of your beat down,” she said, her smile all sweetness.
He laughed. “And here I’d thought to apologize for my earlier comments. They were borderline rude, but maybe not now.”
“Borderline?”
“Borderline,” he said.
“You were rude,” she said, looking him over from her perch above him on the steps. “I accept your apology and if you’ll wait here, I’ll bring your hat and bat out to you.”
“Why thank you,” he said, again with that smug smile.
He watched her as she walked away.
Nice body
, he thought again. She liked her shorts short, and now that he’d looked his fill, so did he. He walked up the back steps, opened the back door and stepped inside the porch. It was homey, maybe even cozy. There was a small couch that had seen better days, flanked by a coffee and side table. There was a light overhead, but it wasn’t very bright. It
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