Page 4 of In the Dust

She looks irritated as she walks to the rear of the car and opens the trunk, slapping the hair away when it tries to steal her sight. I watch her struggle for a moment; she’s completely oblivious to my presence.

She wrestles with a heavy suitcase, and when she finally gets it out of the trunk, it falls into a muddy puddle.

“Stupid, stupid mud!” she cusses at the wind. “Damnit!”

“Hey, Peach.”

She doesn’t turn immediately; her shoulders rise and fall as if she’s preparing herself.

Finally, she turns around, all freckles and sun kissed skin. “Hi, Colton.” She pulls in a deep breath. “I’ve been here for less than two minutes, and I’ve already ruined all of my clothes.”

“One suitcase doesn't seem like much for an entire summer.”

“I’m not staying for the summer, just one week.”

She flips her hair back, and I have to laugh when I notice her nails are done. “Okay, Dixie May, I’m sure you’ll be able to prepare the farm for harvest season in a week.”

She doesn't reply. “This is a fancy car,” I tell her, sliding my dirt dusted arm over the pearly white trunk.

Her face contorts, but she attempts to stretch a smile. “It’s not mine …” She takes one look at her luggage and scowls. “I’ll deal with this later.”

“Whose is it?” I ask, walking her towards the house.

I open the old swinging door for her and just like old times, she dips under my arm to go in.

Her eyes take in the old, rickety door, the cedar wood paneling, anything but me. “My boyfriend rented it for me.”

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