WREN
I step out of my â76 Chevy pickup truck and scan the landscape. The impressive Teller Family Farm and Ranch is sprawled out in front of me.
I attempt to take in all the animals, farm vehicles, and people milling about on the rolling green pastures.
It is slightly intimidating but it makes sense, seeing as the Teller name was on everything in the small Montana town I just drove through.
Plus, I heard theyâre paying a decent amount to temporary summer workers.
My dog, Puck, leaps down from the cab of my truck and onto the gravel next to me. I shut the creaky truck door and lean against the warm hood, wondering where to start and who to approach first.
âCan I help you?â
I turn around and see a freckle-faced, blond-haired kid looking back at me. He canât be more than twelve or thirteen years old.
âMaybe. I heard thereâs still a need for summer help?â
He smiles back at me. âYeah, you can talk to my mom or dad.â His eyes fall on Puck. âHey, can I pet your dog?â
âSure.â I look down at my border collie. âGo say hi, Puck.â
Puck seems to know exactly what I say, as he always does. With his tail wagging, he approaches the kid, who kneels down to put one arm around Puckâs back and scratch his face.
âHeâs a good boy. Puck, huh?â
âYeah, and he is,â I reply. âI think he likes you.â
âHeâs pretty cool! Anyway, Momâs in the house. Follow me.â
The kid leads me toward the large white farmhouse that I parked in front of.
Itâs just as magnificent and pristine as the farm laid out in front of it. It has the rustic charm of an old farmhouse but is huge and clearly meticulously cared for.
On the wraparound porch, I turn to Puck. âDown,â I say. Puck immediately lowers his belly to the ground. âWait here til I get back.â
Puck responds by lowering his head to the ground between his paws, giving me a few wags of his tail to show he understands.
âWow, he listens well, huh? My nameâs Jeremy, whatâs yours?â
âWren,â I say, smiling at Jeremy. I donât spend much time around kids and Iâm always amused by their gleefulness.
âNice to meet you. Hope you snag a spot here so I can hang out with Puck some more.â
I chuckle. Kids are always honest.
âHeâd like that.â
âReally?!â
We enter the house, which is massive with tall, vaulted ceilings featuring black wood beams and shiplap walls. Wide-plank wood floors lead to a large living room on one side and a huge kitchen on the other.
As we enter the kitchen, I canât help but gawk. It looks like it was plucked out of a magazine about French country kitchens.
It has beautiful white cabinetry, a big apron sink, and a large potbelly gas stove. A vintage chandelier lights the area.
âHey, Ma, got another applicant for ya!â Jeremy yells out.
A woman steps out of a side door I hadnât even realized was there. Iâd been too busy ogling the rest of the house.
âHi, Iâm Meredith.â The woman steps forward with her hand out. Sheâs older and absolutely beautiful.
Her gray hair is tied back in a simple braid and the sleeves on her flannel shirt are rolled up to reveal hands adorned with vintage rings and fingernails with dirt underneath.
Her eyes are a sparkling blue and her whole demeanor exudes effortless grace. Iâm rarely in awe of people, but she is something else.
I take her hand and notice her strong grip.
âWren, pleased to meet you. An employee down at the auto store mentioned that you were hiring for the summer. Iâm hoping thatâs still the case.â
She drops my hand and sighs. âWell, all of the entry-level spots have been filled. You ever worked on a farm before?â she asks as she walks over to the stove and puts a copper kettle on a burner.
She turns the knob, and after a few clicks, the burner ignites with a low, blue flame.
âYes, maâam,â I say.
âAny specialty skills? Horse training? Apiary?â she asks without pause.
âUnfortunately not,â I say awkwardly. âBut I appreciate your time.â
âWait,â she says.
I turn back to her.
âSit, please.â
I would normally say I donât want to be a bother, but she doesnât seem like the type of woman to concede. If she tells you to do something, you do it.
âWhere are you from?â
The question always makes me uneasy. My past isâ¦complicated. Certainly too complicated to talk to a potential employer about.
âHonestly, all over. I was a military brat as a kid, and for the last year Iâve been traveling across the country finding work where I can. I enjoy working outside,â I say.
Meredith pours two cups of tea and sets one in front of me while she studies me.
âWhat brought you through Bryxton?â
I blow on the cup of tea to buy myself some time.
âI left California a few weeks ago. I was on a wildfire cleanup crew for several weeks.â
She nods as she considers this. I can tell sheâs impressed. It sounds much moreâ¦heroic than it actually was.
âWhat were you doing at the auto shop?â
âPurchasing a timing belt for my truck. I noticed mine was getting a little worn out,â I say.
Meredith considers this for a moment as she looks me over.
âDo you have experience with machinery?â she asks.
My eyebrows go up. âYeah, some,â is all I offer. I worked on some trucks in the fire camp, but always with others.
âMy son usually hires his own mechanic for the summer, but heâs just returned from a, er, challenging break. So I think thatâll be a good place for you to start.â
âReally?!â I ask, not even trying to hide my excitement.
âYes, but before you get your hopes up, just know that Lance Teller is not the...warmest individual. Youâll have your work cut out for you,â she says with a smirk.
âIâve had my share of difficult bosses,â I say, meaning it. I take a sip of the tea. Itâs still too hot, but I donât show it.
âWhere do you plan to stay, Wren?â
âI have camping gear. Itâs easier since I have a dog. Is there a KOA campground nearby?â
She sips her tea as well and shakes her head.
âItâd be a long daily drive. We have a bunkhouse, but itâs pretty cramped. Thereâs a studio apartment in the barn. You can rent that for $250 per month.
âItâs nothing glamorous, but itâll beat a fifty mile commute any day,â she offers.
âI donât want to be any trouble,â I say.
âNonsense. It gets rented out every summer, but most people have their accommodations at the hostels in town. Is your dog well-behaved?â she asks.
âYes. I know lots of dog owners will say that, but he really is a very good listener. He used to herd so he is used to this environmentâand heâs fixed.â
She smiles at me, which makes me feel happy for some reason.
âSounds great. I donât see any issues then. Welcome to the farm, hun.â She reaches her hand out again.
I take it and smile back.
âThank you so much, Ms. Teller,â I say.
âPlease, Meredith.â
Meredith and I chat for a few more minutes before her phone rings.
âI really have to take this, dear. Can you hang out for a little bit? I will walk you down to the apartment shortly so I can show you around.â
I wave my hand. âNo problem, Iâll be out on the porch.â
As I let the door swing closed behind me, I find Jeremy sitting with Puck right where Iâd left him.
âHi, Wren. I was just keeping Puck company.â
âThanks, Jeremy, Iâm sure he loved it.â
âDid you get the job?â
âSounds like it. Iâm going to be staying in the barn too,â I say.
âOh cool! Iâll get to hang out with Puck all the time!â
I laugh. âThatâs right!â
Suddenly, Puck barks. It is just once, but he is telling me someone is approaching. I squint into the late afternoon sun and try to stop my jaw from dropping.
An absolutely gorgeous man approaches the porch. From his cowboy hat down to his boots, he looks like he stepped straight out of a sexy menâs wall calendar.
A flannel is flung over his broad shoulder and his white V-neck is coated in dust and sweat. Itâs tight enough to see his rippling muscles stretch across his chest and biceps.
His swagger is exaggerated by a slight limp. Light-colored stubble graces the lower half of his face and his eyes are ocean blue.
Even the scowl on his face is electrifying.
âWhose mutt is that?â
My eyebrows immediately furrow, but Jeremy answers before I have a chance.
âWrenâs.â He points to me. âHeâs a good dog though, Lance, you donât have to worry about him.â
Oh shit, this is the Lance? As in my new boss?
âAnd who is Wren?â Lance turns his scowl on me as he talks about me as if Iâm not even here. I am thoroughly annoyed now on top of being awestruck by this breathtaking man.
âI am. Meredith just hired me,â I say, wishing my voice sounded a little more confident.
Lance steps up onto the porch and approaches me. He is a good five inches taller than I am.
His musky scent of deodorant and sun-drenched sweat invades my nostrils and his blue eyes bore into me. I suddenly feel incredibly exposed.
âI do the hiring around here, and I certainly donât have space for a dog I donât know or trust around the farm,â he says.
I can tell he is trying to intimidate me, and frankly, itâs working. I narrow my eyes at him and stand up a bit taller.
âLook, I can appreciate your protectiveness, but I deserve a chance just like everyone else. Do you really think sheâd hire me if I wasnât trustworthy?â I cock my head to the side in question.
He glares at me even more.
âWhatâs going on here? Lance?!â
The screen door creaks as Meredith steps out onto the porch and pushes Lance back a step to give me some space. I let out a breath I didnât know I was holding.
âYou hired someone without talking to me? Someone with a dog?â
Meredith raises her eyebrows and folds her arms across her chest.
âYouâre damn right I did. Iâm still the owner, Lance, and frankly, you canât do it all yourself. She has experience and sheâs going to rent out the studio too. So justâgetâoverâit.â
In between each of her last words, she pokes Lance in his broad chest.
âMom, you donât even know this dog, or this woman! We have livestock, we canât chance it.â
âItâs called instinct, son. Just cause yours was wrong once or twice doesnât mean you shouldnât listen to it,â she spits back. I see Lanceâs jaw tighten.
Meredith, whatever she is referring to, just struck a nerve.
Lanceâs eyes shoot to me. âFine. But if thereâs one slip up, youâre both out of here.â
Lance turns on his heel and storms off the porch toward the guest house. Meredith rolls her eyes and turns to me.
âWell, letâs go see your new digs!â