The Plaid to My Aztec

I slipped on a pair of my favorite jeans, the pair of bootcut jeans I wore so much that the hem of the pant legs started to fray. Buttoned up my thin maroon plaid, tucking it into my jeans and tugging on it a little to avoid it from clinging to my torso. After evenly distributing the ends of my shirt, I smoothed out any wrinkles that may have found their way there from going through the dryer. I fastened on my weathered and worn tan Durango square toe boots, then walked into the bathroom that’s between Hunter and I’s room. I opened the top drawer on my side of the bathroom counter and pulled out my brush. My brown hair was a mess, sticking out in different angles. It hurt a little to brush out the snarls, but my hair soon flattened. I pulled my hair back into a low bun and pulled the hair tie off my left wrist and twisted it around the bun. I then applied a little bit of mascara.

“Morning Amy.” Hunter said as he groggily walked in.

I spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out my mouth quickly. “Mornin’ Hunter.” I say back to my twin as I put my dark brown Ariat ball cap on. He was still in his sweatpants and bare chest. “Why ain’t you dressed yet? We got chores to do.” I scold. "You know mom won't be happy if we aren't in the barn before the new guy gets here."

He sighs, “I’ll hurry, okay?” he grabs the bottle of Advil that has made itself home in the middle of our bathroom counter. I observe him for a second as he pours a couple of the blue gel capsules into his hand, throwing them into his mouth and drink from the sink to wash them down. He must have been up late, drinking and playing card with Mom.

I roll my eyes at him, a little annoyed that I have to be the one to harp on him this time. He's usually up and dragging me out of bed. Hunter thrives on the early morning schedule. I, on the other hand, am not the best morning person. I only do it because I love working the ranch. I slam my bathroom door as I leave my twin alone in the bathroom, in time to miss him hurling out his guts. Should have taken a Tums before the Advil.

I grabbed the blue lead rope off my dresser, hung it around my neck, and went downstairs. The lights were still off on the main floor, the sunrise barely illuminating the kitchen and dining room.

Mom always says that when Dad used to live here, he’d get up extra early just to watch the sun rise over the grassy pasture. I see why he did that, it’s absolutely beautiful. But, Dad is an ass. I caught him banging the trainer in the living room about six years ago. Now he lives in a trailer on a piece of our property down the road. Not sure why Mom and Dad never got divorced. My dad had way more to lose than my mom. She should have screwed him royally after what he did.

This is my mom's land, seventh generation in the Walker family. She comes from old money. My dad, Hansen White, only married my mom cause he got her pregnant at nineteen. He was a great dad, and a terrible husband. He used my mom only for the money and where she comes from.

I pulled open the fridge door, and sadly it didn’t contain anything appetizing for breakfast, so I just grabbed a Fiber One bar out of the breakfast cupboard. The only thing that’s really in there are granola bars, cereal, and poptarts. Pretty much whatever don’t go in the fridge.

I peeled the shiny rapper off the granola and tossed it in the trash. I take a small bite out of the sweet chocolaty thing and all the flavors melted in my mouth. Mmm, these things are so good.

I stopped by the door, looking outside as I finished off the Fiber One. I wonder how the temperature is outside. You never really know out here in Michigan in the middle of October. Typically it’s cooling off, preparing itself for the bitter coldness of winter. Winter starts a little early up in the tail end of the U.P.

I hesitantly open the door to stick out my arm, but quickly recoiled it back inside, hitting my elbow into the door frame. "Fuck, that hurt!" I shout while grabbing for my hurting elbow. It's much colder this morning than it was yesterday.

I hear Hunter laughing in the kitchen. "Is it cold out?" he mocks. I was really hoping he hadn't seen that.

I shoot him a glare. "Ass hat." my feet carry me over to the coat closet and I grabbed my maroon Carhart jacket and threw it on as walked out the front door.

The gravel driveway crunched under my boots as I headed over to the barn. The rooster crowed to the morning sun. Horses kicking at the stall doors make my feet move faster. I push open the barn door as the horses whinny to my entry. They are hungry and I don't exactly want to start morning chores until the new guy gets here. That way we can show him what he needs to do.

I flick on the lights as I head over to the office. I open the office door and turn on the light. We need some music. I turn on the radio and Water Tower Town by Scotty McCreery comes on over the speakers. A sigh escapes me, that's more like it. The iPod I have is set up to Bluetooth speakers around the barn and has a very large playlist of country music. That way there are no interruptions in the music.

A knock at the office door startles me as I jump in my skin. "Hunter, I swear, I am going to kick you in the-" my sentence gets caught off when I turn around and see that the man in the doorway is not my brother. "Oh," he was very tall and very handsome. Is this the new guy?

The tall man, dressed in a thick red flannel and dark wash jeans, holds out a hand. "I'm Winston Wyatt, you must be Amy White?"

I take hesitantly take his hand and give it a welcoming shake. "Yeah, and you are right on time." she could have at least given me some warning that she was hiring a hot rising rodeo cowboy.

Suddenly I am nervous and can't think of what to say or do next. He's just so gorgeous. Tall, muscular, tanned skin. Not to mention the drawl. I can barely see his dark brown hair under his tan cowboy hat. His eyes are like two endless pools of clear Fiji water. If I were to fantasize about a rodeo cowboy, it would definitely be him.

"Oh, perfect." my brother says as he walks into the office. "I see you met my twin." an evil grin stretches across Hunter's face.

Seeing my brother next to Winston puts into prospective the height difference. Hunter is 5'9", so Winston should be pushing 6'4". He would make me feel short and I'm only an inch shorter than Hunter.

"Winston was telling me, on the way over here, that he was hoping we had a place for him and his horse to stay." Hunter mentions as I gap at the man before me.

I pick my brain for an answer. "Um, we have a few extra stalls and a spare room in the house. Or you can stay in the loft. Your choice." the last guy stayed in the house before getting kicked to the loft for not following my mom's house rules for a week straight.

"I can take the loft," his deep southern drawl was soft and gentle.

I nod, "Right, lets get to the chores and then we can get you moved in."

We spend the next three hours showing the morning routine. Feed the horses. Feed an water the chickens. Collect the eggs. Try not to get chased by rooster Donald. Prep the pastures with water and hay. Turn out the horses to their respective pasture. Muck the stalls. Refill the water buckets in each stall. Doing all that usually takes an hour and half between Hunter and I, but we wanted to make sure we didn't miss anything. That goes for what horses get what food and how much. How to deal with Donald the overly protective Light Brahma rooster. Which horse goes to which pasture. How to handle each horse when turning them out. Then, we'll have to do it all over again at the end of the day.

The entire time we showed him what to do, he was very alert and would ask questions. His interest in the job was such a relief. Training him the routine might not take very long. He's already ten times better than the last guy.

Winston clears his throat as we walk up the stairs to the loft with boxes of his things. "I had seen on your website that you guys breed quarter horses. Is that all you guys do?"

"No, my dad owns cattle on a different part of our property. Long Horns. We help him out when he moves them from different pastures. The last guy we hired went to go works over there. Said he likes cows better than horses." maybe I shouldn't have told him that. He might change his mind about working with the horses.

Winston lets out a scuff, "Horses are much better than cows."

Phew, at least I didn't blow it. "We also host mini rodeos in the summer. In the winter we host equestrian practices for the middle school and high school equestrian teams for the local schools. I coach the Houghton High while my brother coaches the middle school." I shrug my shoulders. "We stay pretty busy." I stop at the top of the stairs and flick the hall light on.

We walk a few steps down the hall and we are at the door to the loft. I open the door and turn the light on to the loft suite.

"This is the loft?" Winston asks in awe.

"Yeah, living area is right when you walk in. The kitchenette is off to the left with a bathroom down there. You can eat at the island or the dining table in the middle there. We have three bedrooms along this wall." I point to the wall that follows a row of stall below. "A master bed with a master bath. Then we have two regular bedrooms. You can-" before I can finish my sentence, he walks straight to the mater bedroom.

"First come, first serve." he says while opening the door.

Well that was easy. "This is your new home, I guess." I set the box I was holding on the bed. "If you'd rather join us for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, breakfast is at seven, lunch is at noon, and dinner is at six. Don't complain about my mother's cooking, or she'll tell you to shove it and make your own food."

Winston smiles at me, "Thank you, Amy. I can finish unpacking by myself. You can tell your mom to plan on me for dinner. I'm going to get myself acquainted with the property during lunch."

"I can give you a tour if you'd like, I was planning on going for a ride anyway." I offer.

He nods, "That sounds good."

I smile as I leave him to unpack his things. I can't help but let feelings for him rise inside me. I have been so busy with the ranch that I haven't really made time for myself as far as a love life goes. Hopefully he's single, cause that would be awkward if he wasn't.