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  HARSH WINDS:

  The Cowboy Who Strolled Into Town

  (Western Romance)

  By Riley Moreno

  INTRODUCTION

  Before You Get Started Reading

  I have a VERY important message that you MUST READ!

  I promise you it’s not a spam and I’m not trying to sell you anything!

  Chapter1

  Daniel Hellas sat alone at the very back of the bus. His emotionless eyes gazed through the grey-tinted glass windows at the slow passing scenery. The low, growl of the bus’ engine drowned out the sounds from outside, but Daniel’s mind filled in the blanks as the bus went along; a lone dog barking at the passing bus; the innocent carefree laughter of children engrossed at hop-scotch; the excited yells of the baseball game in the rectangular yard; the silent descent of the late afternoon sun upon the small southern town.

  The steel frame of the bus shone golden in the low-lying four o’clock sun as it slowly came to a halt at the bus stop located at the very edge of the city, just before the suburbs. There were a few people hanging around either to receive a few passengers or to catch a journey in the opposite direction, but other than those, the otherwise empty and silent bus stop was filled mainly with those who had previously been on the bus. Daniel was the last to come off, and he immediately set off on foot with his bag pack across his back, away from the direction of the sun. He followed the direction of the wind into the suburbs, his shadow lying long before him on the grey tarmac.

  He would travel two miles along the tarmac, bounded on each side by similar looking houses, all with similar well-kept lawns out front, before branching off to the left, unto a dirt road to walk another two miles in; past several houses, all with similarly well-kept lawns, but also with adjoining farms sprawling out behind before coming to his own home found at the very edge; the very last house in that area.

  Even though his steps were even, raised very little dust, and he showed no signs of fatigue, his forehead gleamed with sweat in the fading light of the afternoon when he arrived at the fallen gates located along the grey old fence that ran along the front of his house. The low-lying fence was in need of repair and replacement at several points along its length. Stepping into the compound, Daniel could hear its old frame creak even in the gentle breeze that ushered in the gloom of evening, seamlessly matching the house, which looked like a sad face; the windows, gaping eyes; the door, a nose; the front porch, a moustache, all staring out across the unkempt, overgrown lawn to the dirt road ahead, and into the twilight beyond.

  The front door creaked open, to let the very last of the daylight in. Daniel tried the light to confirm what he already suspected, and nodded slightly in the dark of the house when they did not come on. He put his bag pack down with a loud thump, and searched within for a flash light which he used to survey the living room before him. The furniture, along with everything else, was covered in white sheets to protect against the dust and mould; both of which had settled generously on the wooden floor like a second skin.

  Daniel passed the flash light one more time around the room before heading up the stairs with his bag pack with his old room. The stuffy, mouldy atmosphere that pervaded the house made him want to sneeze as he moved, flash light in hand, from room to room; passing through the living room to the kitchen, then the closets, before finally heading back upstairs to check out the other rooms.

  He finally sneezed when he came back downstairs, the sound echoing through the dark, empty house. Outside was already dark grey when he went round to have a look at the old stable houses and chicken coops. By the time he had finished his first rounds of the property that was now his, the crickets were already in song, and the sounds of his feet against the wooden floors were travelling a lot faster and farther into the night

  Coming out of the last stable house, located about fifty metres from the old house, he heard fast, approaching footsteps. He was greeted by the harsh glare of flash lights in his eyes, the second he stepped out of the wooden shack,

  “Who goes there? You better talk before I start pulling; its weasel season I hear.”

  “Hey, hey, you mind pointing that flash light somewhere else?” Daniel protested, shielding his face, “Old man Yalow it’s me, Daniel”

  “Oh, Dan! That you, boy?” An old voice exclaimed from the other end of the beam, “Put away that flash light Stan,” the voice said to someone else whose presence Dan had previously been unaware of, “I didn’t see ya come up the street; saw flash light prancing around the house and me and my boy decided to come look into things; make sure everything was nice and proper.”

  “Well everything is, at least as proper as can be expected,” Daniel, who was no longer shielding his face answered, “Thanks for checking up though, the silence here be loud; hearing your voice…”

  “Yeah I know; it’s been a while since the old place looked like herself. Boy I know you must be hungry.” The voice said, the flash light already turning, “Grace should have dinner rolling out on the table by now.”

  It was a command, the old man was not asking his opinion, and even though Daniel would ordinarily not want to intrude, nor impose himself on another, he gratefully followed the other two men, his stomach rumbling in tandem with the crickets.

  Under the white lights that adorned the front porch of the neighbouring house, Daniel could finally take a good look at his dinner hosts that night. While Steven Yalow, rightly, looked his sixty plus years, the other was a mere boy, and could not have been more than twenty in years, but he looked strong and sturdy, with a face that looked a lot like his father’s only less striated.

  “My son Stanley,” Old man Yalow announced proudly, “Stanley, meet Daniel Hellas, I’m not sure you two have met.”

  Daniel nodded his head in acknowledgement, and the flannel clad youngster did the same before they all shuffled into the house which was already brimming with delicious aromas.

  Daniel walked in into the wafting aroma of Louisiana red beans, along with fried chicken with slaw on the side-a classic southern dish. It looked a veritable feast as they sat at the table, and Daniel said so, expressing his gratitude at being invited to the table at such short notice.

  “Oh don’t worry about it; you are welcome anytime.” Mrs Yalow replied, waving her hands through the air as if to blow off the remark. Grace Yalow was a round, largish woman with an even bigger heart. Her hair, which shone silver in the lights around the dining table, gave her an even more matriarchal personage. She looked like everybody’s favourite aunt. “Why, we have a bigger problem finding mouths to feed rather than the other way round nowadays.”

  Daniel laughed at the remark, thanking her again nonetheless, “Well I am glad the farms are coming along well in these parts. You folks seem to be carving out a right nice life for yourselves in your old age.” He said helping himself to some beans from bowl which Stanley was holding out to him. He took in a lungful of the delicious aroma at the same time.

  “Oh it’s not the farm, Daniel” Grace said

  Steven Yalow shifted in his seat, “Well my health I not what it used to be so David helped us to liquidate and invest. His idea actually; I feel I s
till got another twenty years in me.”

  Stanley clearly thought otherwise, stifling laughter. Grace sighed however, “Oh Stevie, you know he is just trying to help, plus these investments are making much more than we ever made before.”

  “I still coulda gone on” Old man Yalow insisted, with a small pout on his lips.

  “Don’t worry about Steve, Daniel. He is proud of David even if he is wont to hide it behind that pout of his.”

  “He is an investment banker in, where-Tennessee isn’t he?” Daniel asked, smiling and casting an appreciative glance at the huge amount of food before him.

  “Oh he has been transferred to the main office in New York; he about to get married soon too. It’s Linda who still lives in Tennessee with her husband.” Grace answered, her big heart bursting with pride.

  “Now, now Gracie, no need to bore Danny boy with talk about David, I am sure they keep in touch.” Old man Yalow said modestly, even though he could not supress the huge grin off his face, “So now that you are here, tell me Daniel: Do you intend to start where your old man left off? Resurrect the farm?”

  “Right sir, I intend to do just that. My, after what I learned in the army, farming is just about the only thing which I know how to do well and I know I can carve a life out for myself right here at home.” Daniel answered as he guzzled down some slawed chicken, “I only hope I can count on gaining some valuable wisdom from an old hand like you Mr Yalow. You and Pops used to do everything together back in the old days.” Daniel ended, his coal black eyes, exuding belief and passion.

  Mr Yalow was shaking his sallow head in approval, while he made a piece of chicken disappear, “Take my advice boy, the soil never lies; treat her with respect and put passion into it, and you will reap abundantly. Why, I might even help you out with some of the work.” He said with a naughty smile across his greying face, obviously trying to rile Grace, who took the bait and started berating him about his failing health, “Anything is better than sitting down Dan” he insisted laughing, “In a way I envy you; you have your life before you; a clean slate waiting for you to write upon it. Me? Three kids who are all grown up, a wife whom I still love like I did when I first spied her that afternoon in church, and enough to support myself till further notice. I feel God is already done with me; probably be checking out any day now.” He ended on a sombre note.

  Grace slapped his hand sharply, causing Stanley who had been respectfully silent up till that moment to giggle, “I love you too Stevie, but you shouldn’t talk like that.”

  The atmosphere continued in its humorous spirit, as the meal went on. Daniel, getting to know more about their three grown kids from Grace, one of whom was seated at the table, and Steven reminiscing about the good old days, many instances involving his, Daniel’s father.

  Chapter 2

  The sunlight falling through the stained glass windows found high up on the church walls fell obliquely on the lone parishioner seated at the last bench within. Daniel, seated at the back, could see the dust visibly suspended between the bland faces of the parishioners, as well as the bright red hue across the priest’s face as he stood on the pulpit giving a feel-good sermon. Daniel kept an ear open, but his mind wondered; from the far off altar, low lying at the head of the church, to the priest at the pulpit, to the wooden benches making thirty or so rows divided into three columns. Sundays in this same church had been a fixture for his family thirty or so years ago, his parents had never missed, and they had made sure that he never did either. Now, looking about the old coloured church building, his parents long gone, he realised how long ago that was, and that those times were never coming back.

  Daniel’s interest picked up shortly after the sermon during the prayers of the faithful. From the back of the dusty old church, he observed Julianne Hayes, adorned in the customary white coveralls, genuflect before taking the altar. Her clear voice, easily carrying over and across the vast space of the church, sounded to him like the delightful jingle of bells from the distant past; a joyful past-he was entranced. He sat up straighter in the hard bench of the pews, and at that moment their eyes connected.

  Julianne faltered, shock glancing her usually serene features. She resumed the monologue of the prayers as before even while her heart raced within her chest. His eyes had held hers only for a second, but that one moment could just as easily been an eternity.

  During the procession train, signalling the end of the mass, her heart sank to the pit of her belly when she could not see Daniel at the bench she had seen him seated at earlier. The concluding prayers, in actual fact spanning seconds, seemed to her like decades in length. To the amusement of the others in the sacristy, she was out of her robe, and dashing through the door in less than a minute, and wittingly bumped into Daniel who had been waiting just outside the doorway. His strong arms caught her by the elbows, preventing her fall, “Whoa! You better take it easy.” He said, gently lifting her up to her feet.

  Julianne thanked him, taking a deep breath and straightening her blouse and skirt. She felt hypnotized by the depths of his gaze. His blue, liquid eyes were like clear, mysterious pools, having no end to their depths. She smiled as she took the arm he offered. Words seemed superfluous at that point, as the church compound, and everybody in it, fell out of existence, leaving only the two of them in the whole wide world.

  They walked in serene silence for what seemed like an eternity, quietly enjoying the lazy atmosphere that always accompanied Sundays, and enjoying each other’s company, before any of them spoke.

  “Why, Ms Hayes forgive me for saying, but you must do this all the time,” Daniel teased. “Men, lining up on the sidewalk to ferry you home.”

  Julianne giggled at his remark, they used to talk like this a long time ago, “Excellent deduction Master Hellas, but if you were really smart, you would also know this is the first time I am actually enjoying myself at the same time.”

  Julianne felt his solid frame ripple with his chuckle, and felt the air rush out of her nervous lungs as he pulled her closer to himself, with gentleness beyond uttering, “It has been a while we spoke like that to each other,” he said wistfully, “I’m surprised you still remember!”

  Now it was her turn to laugh, “Twenty years could seem twenty days Daniel.”

  “Jacob and Rachel?” Daniel asked, pausing all of a sudden and turning to gaze deep into her eyes, with a longing that set Julianne’s heart ablaze. It took all she had to put aside the raging turmoil within her.

  “When did you come back Dan?” her lips felt desert parched as she asked.

  “Yesterday, in the evening; Old Yalow treated me to supper.” They were walking along once again, almost at her house now.

  “Last time I saw you, I could only see your back as you sped off in a haze of dust, with neither glance, nor word; you really hate this place that much? What are you going to do now?” She asked, striving to keep the anxiety and agony out of her voice, “I mean, I know it was your pa’s funeral, and you and the town got history, but what are you gonna do now Dan?”

  They were about thirty metres from her house, under a tree, hidden from the harsh late-morning sun that hung in those parts. A few rays still managed to filter through the cool green leaves overhead to fall upon her dark face like golden tear drops. The cries and laughter of children easily carried on the warm breeze that played around them. Twenty years, twenty, long years! Daniel thought as he admired the smooth profile of her face, even more beautiful in the shade. He felt a longing at the very core his being. He was aware of the importance of his next words.

  “I’m gonna fix my truck. That’s what I’m gonna do next.” He said carefully, and was delighted to see the anxiety dispelled from her face; vowing to himself to do all in his power to keep it away, “Pops always said a man is his truck ‘specially in these parts.”

  “Then you should know that old Jacob of the bible has one better on you, for he took twenty-one years, not twenty.” Julianne said, her confidence in him as bright as the sun drops
against her dark chocolate cheeks, she kissed him on the cheek, effectively stifling the response in his throat; her perfume, lively and earnest, wafting into his nostrils, all creating a sensation so hot and intense, they may as well have been standing in the blaring sun rather than the cool shade of the tree, “One step at a time dear.”

  He stood in the cool of the shade, watching the sun rays reflect off her dark chocolate as she insisted on walking the final stretch to her house. Daniel was positive that where he presently was, was the closest to flying that a man could get without equipment.

  Her perfume clung to his arm, and Daniel touched his cheek, as he strolled further into the suburbs towards his home. He was not sure if her last statement alluded to the relationship between the both of them or to his integration into the area. He was not sure there was any difference between the two.

  Chapter 3

  The day was just exiting the grey stage when she arrived in her tiny coupe. The light from the sun cast as much shadow as it did light across the dashboard as she parked the tiny car neatly to the side. Her steps made almost no sound on the old boards of the porch, and she was just about to knock on the mouldy old door when she heard metallic sounds coming from the left corner of the house, along with Daniel swearing harshly to himself.

  She rounded the corner just in time to see him slide out from under the old truck that his father had ridden for many years before finally passing away two years earlier. His face was covered in grease stains, and so was his blue coverall which was much too small for him, and fitted like a bodice.

  He turned sharply at the sound of steps on the dusty, brown earth, and smiled a disarming smile of genuine surprise upon seeing her.

  “I was hoping to catch you in bed, so I could pour water all over you,” Julianne said, the wide smile on her face, reaching her eyes, mimicked his own. “I can see the time spent away has not taken the cowboy out of you.”