Barrett leaned against the kitchen counter, took a swig of his morning coffee and tapped his large boot against the linoleum floor.
Most of his night was spent staring at the ceiling while Sarah lay on his chest, snoring contently. Between the near-two hours of rough, unbridled sex -- there was no such thing as 'making love' when it came to Sarah -- he managed to tell her about hiring a new employee. Aside from a sleepy nod and a yawn, she didn't have much to say.
With all he carried on his shoulders: maintaining the farm, playing father to his niece Eden, sorting out the construction business; he didn't need to add anyone else's burdens to his steadily growing pile. Yet he didn't regret helping her. Wherever Renee had come from, whatever she went through, it was clear that she was still hurting but ready to move on. For that reason alone he would help her, regardless of the extra costs.
His Ma was like that when she decided enough was enough. The last cuts and bruises had barely healed when she left Arizona with her two children and moved to Texas. Everything from the elusive behavior to the sunglasses, Renee reminded Barrett so much of her. A rough road of uncertainty and hard living was a precursor to their arrival in Quentin. If it wasn't for people like Thelma, who gave them a place to stay until they landed on their feet, she would have never been able to buy the farm and settle down. He wanted to do for Renee what so many had done for his Ma.
He gripped the handle of his coffee mug and sneered. Thoughts of his mother meant deep-seeded, angry memories of his father followed soon after, playing in the recesses of his mind like a grainy silent movie. He and Brandi cowered in a corner, covering their ears. Ma would plead, beg him to stop. It only egged him on for more. Sometimes his fists were enough. Sometimes he used his belt.
An underlying sense of guilt plagued Barrett most of his life. He was only a kid but he could have done
something.
At least tell a teacher or a neighbor. The fear of retaliation from his father finding out paralyzed him. Brandi and he anticipated the day when their father's violent rage would spill over and make them targets but for whatever reason, it never happened.
Even on her death bed three years prior, Ma absolved him of feeling guilt or responsibility for what happened all those years ago. He could still see the glimmer of pride in her emerald eyes as she held his hand with a weak grip, hear her strained voice urging him to be thankful for all they'd received.
Life without her was hard, but he'd managed as best as he could. He'd always make sure Eden and Brandi were taken care of -- that was priority. The farm and business meant his hands were full most of the time but things were manageable. And though he'd been unlucky in love before, he'd found Sarah last year.
As for his father? He was still alive. Somewhere. After he'd inflicted as much damage as he could and forced them to leave, last Barrett knew he had married again and started another family.
Aside from the Tsosie name, the dark hair and natural tan, Barrett had no connection to his father. He had inherited most of his beautiful mother's traits, like her striking eyes and most of her European features. Brandi was older and had embraced their Navajo heritage but Barrett had little interesting in learning anything more about his father.
He turned around and glanced out of the kitchen window. The cows were roaming awfully close to the wooden cattle fence that needed repairing.
"God damn it." He put his drink down and went outside to corral the adventurous heifers. He'd have to fix that fence soon or they'd bust right through the thing and end up trotting down the road again.
He walked back in and cat-called when Sarah descended down the large staircase, wearing little more than a pair of skintight blue jean shorts and a shirt that barely covered her taut midriff. A classic case of a girl who flaunted her athletic body and beauty every chance she got.
"Well, good mornin'," he said with a grin.
"Morning, handsome."
His relationship with Sarah consisted of roughly eighty percent sex and twenty percent... other stuff. Not the most solid of foundations to build something long-lasting but what did that mean? He was thirty and had decided the concept of 'love' meant finding a good-looking woman who wasn't a complete airhead. Not only did Sarah possess those qualities, she was also a decent woman with a pretty kind heart. She had her faults like everyone else but their year together had been solid thus far.
She stood on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around his broad neck, brushed her pale lips against his cheek.
"Want to play a little before work?"
"Hmm." He kneaded the pale flesh of her backside and kissed the back of her butterfly-tattooed neck. "Temptin'. I can't today."
"Not even five minutes?" She nipped at his earlobe and giggled.
He glanced at the wall clock and considered it. Five minutes with Sarah meant thirty at the least.
"Not this time, baby. Want some coffee?"
"No thanks," she yawned, stretched her arms over her head. "I'm headed to Town & County Foods to help Pete with inventory."
Barrett raised a brow in surprise. "That's the fourth time this week."
"Well, I need something to keep me busy since Eden took my waitressing job, remember?"
"I remember you
quittin
'," he clarified. "That's when I said you could work with me."
"Barrett, I might live in Quentin but I'm not a farm girl at heart. Dealing with animals, cleaning cages... ugh!" She stuck her tongue out and frowned like a three year old who'd been told to eat broccoli. "Hard labor is
so
not my thing."
"How exactly is carryin' and unloadin' heavy crates full of supplies
not
hard labor?" he inquired, head tilted to the side in confusion.
One of Sarah's faults, bless her, was not making a lick of sense most of the time. He chalked it up to the six year age gap between them. He was probably just as clueless when he was twenty-four.
"Uh..." she faltered. "It's just different, okay? I don't have to worry about any animals or getting sweaty. Besides, we wouldn't have any alone time for ourselves if I worked with you."
Well, that made sense. Having Sarah around was nice; granted, some days he just wanted to come in and watch TV or catch up on paperwork with no interruption. And Sarah being around all day long meant half the time he'd either be rolling around in the sheets with her or listening to her ramble on about some trivial worry she had.
"Alright, I get the point. Break my heart, why don'tcha."
"Mmhm." She beamed, pecked him on the mouth. "We both come in after a long day of work. Missed each other all day long."
When she pressed her palm against his jean-covered member, he exhaled. Damn, it was hard to say no. He reached for her hand and gently brushed it away.
