pandemo (pandemo) wrote,

New Dance -- The Recurring Dream

Unloading had never gone so rapidly. He set off across the creek with two bags of salt, one on each shoulder.

I wonder if he's a weight lifter. He makes those 50 pound bags look as substantial as sacks of potato chips.

She headed up to the house to make a few phone calls to see if anyone needed a good hired man.

Maybe I can deliver him someplace safe before dark.

A soft rap on the door announced the end of the unloading. She waved him in as she continued her conversation with a local cattleman who needed a shed re-roofed following a recent wind storm.

Lowering the phone, she inquired, "Do you roof?"

"Tin and wood, shingles or shakes."

"Sounds like an interesting dance to learn the steps of." Playfully, she offered him the phone, but he shook his head. Get a grip. You're not dating him. Briskly, she spoke into the phone, "When would you like him?"

Intense black eyes. Holding his gaze, she asked, "Is 6 a.m. too early for you?"


"Do you have the supplies on hand?" ...

"Would you be willing to help him haul hay?"...

"Can you drive a tractor?"

He nodded.

"He'll be there." She hung up, then looked him over. Long black hair was gathered into a pony tail that had been hidden by his coat.

"Would you like to shower? I can wash up your things while you get cleaned up, if you'd like." My nose will be ever so grateful if you say "yes". She was embarrassed to feel her nose twitch, and watched, appalled, as his eyes glinted with humor as if he'd read her thoughts.

She pointed down the hall. "Third door. Just set out anything you'd like cleaned."

Instead of starting down the hall, he opened the outside door, quickly returning with his pack. Soon an impossibly large pile of clothes appeared outside the bathroom door.

Wherever did he have all THOSE stashed?

Using cold water so he didn't get a nasty surprise when he showered, she started the load with double the normal amount of soap, then dug out some of her father's baggiest pants and a black oversized sweatshirt she generally wore with a good six inches of sleeve rolled up, and deposited them outside the door.

He exited while she was loading the dryer. The legs of the pants she always thought were so big hit him mid thigh. She burst out laughing. His long black hair hung loose around his shoulders, and the sleeves were just slightly too short.

Eying him appreciatively, her wayward tongue commented before she could stop it, "You sure clean up nice."

"Clothes make the man."

A startled bark of laughter burst from her. "So I've heard."

He could play the lead in a movie, even in rags. It's a wonder he's such a hard worker. Most good looking guys are pretty good at getting others to do their work for them.

Last updated 1/20/02
Tags: sotfw -- sc

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