With a blow as with a hammer the intruder broke the ice,
And the proud and queenly beauty seemed to think it awful nice.
Eva had been convinced by a smooth-talking Nigel and a non-thinking George that the two of them should team up and move in together. Eva and Nigel that is. She had started at the Farm in a remote cabin by herself, but as the temperatures began to drop she wasn’t so sure she could handle an Idaho winter on her own. Neither was George. There was no way she’d be able to chop enough firewood by herself to fuel the wood stove all winter. She couldn’t swing a man’s maul to save her life.
Nigel had been watching her around the Farm and quickly jumped on the opportunity before him. He’d overheard her talking to George about starting a garden business at his place, and she’d most certainly need help. He had the tools, the testosterone, the brawn, and the bullshit to make it happen. He approached her one day, giving her the once over, remarking that she sure didn’t look like a farmer. “What does a farmer look like?” Eva had asked. “Most of them have shorter legs,” he answered. “And they aren’t as pretty as you.”
Then there was George. It was obvious he was sweet on Eva from the very beginning and wanted her to stick around. Slumlord’s pet, if there was such a thing. He’d been giving Eva driving lessons on the old Kubota tractor, showing her the ins and outs of being a cattle farmer. There was talk of him building a new cabin just for her, maybe the next year, but for sure within fifty years. One day, he’d given her some flowers to put in her hair. And he was as excited as Eva was to get a new garden started, as long as he didn’t have to do any of the work.
Copyright © 2019 J.J. West. Fiddlesticks! Tales From A Country Ghetto.
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