Chapter Text
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel along to the beat of the radio, watching yet another cornfield slip past outside the window. The highway curved back and forth through the ripening stalks, the hot pavement glistening in the August heat. In the distance, she could see the blinding metal sheen of grain elevators stretching in a line away from the road, towards...nothing.
A whole lot of nothing, as far as she was concerned.
It’s worth it. Y/N reminded herself. Just think about the money.
She took a sip from the fast food soda in the console cup holder, then reached for her phone, thumb swiping at the screen to check the GPS. 45 minutes out. And still enough service to get directions, thank god. She considered calling her mother but decided against it, and dropped her phone back in its place in the second cupholder.
With no one to talk to, she resigned herself to her thoughts and the old rock music on the radio for company.
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“There you are! We were wonderin’ when you’d get in!” Mr. Van Horn waved with one hand and stood from his place on the porch steps, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans.
Y/N smiled, closing the car door with her hip. She hadn’t realized that he would be waiting here for her, but it did make sense - she was renting his mother’s old house and she hadn’t been able to pick up a key before she came to town today. Still, she felt guilty that she made the older man sit outside in the heat for...however long; she could see the sweat glistening on his forehead and the backs of his arms.
“Yep, here I am!” she shrugged, trying to match his enthusiasm, but the drive had sapped her energy, and she prayed that he would simply hand her the keys and leave. If he tried to help carry her boxes she would feel so, so guilty. “I’m sorry, have you been waiting long?”
“Nah,” he waved her off. “Only an hour or so, an’ I needed to shuck this corn anyway.” He gestured to the two five gallon buckets sitting to the side of the porch steps, one filled with pale yellow ears of corn, the other overflowing with the discarded husks.
“Oh, that’s good, then.” Y/N answered lamely, shifting from foot to foot. She’d finished the soda a half hour ago and was desperate for a bathroom.
“Well, you come on in here,” Mr. Van Horn turned and started up the porch steps. “I’ve got the air conditionin’ turned on for ya already, so you won’t burn up!”
Y/N followed, thanking him for the thought. The screen door creaked as he swung it open and then pushed in the unlocked front door. He stepped aside, allowing her to walk into the lovely cool air first. She thanked him, looking around at the quaint little house.
She had rented the house based solely on the pictures he had emailed her, and thankfully the images were true to life. It was clear an elderly lady had lived here - the mauve walls and framed doilies and floral print sofa spoke to the careful homemaking of a mid-century wife. The china cabinet held real china, painted with pale pink roses, and a few pastoral paintings decorated the walls, interspersed with faded family photos. Soft afternoon light illuminated the room through the delicate lace curtains.
Mr. Van Horn directed her to the closest bathroom, and Y/N scurried down the hall, made quick use of it, and then came back, her steps shuffling on the thick brown carpet.
“Well, you’ve seen everything in the pictures, I think. It’s not a big house, but comfortable for one person. Ma sure did love it, and she took good care of it, while she could still live here by herself.”
Y/N nodded. “I’ll take good care of it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will. Not too worried about that. Now, before I forget, lemme get you those keys…”
As he dug in his pockets, the loud roar of an engine sounded from somewhere outside the house. Y/N jumped at the sound, startled, and turned to the window.
“What the hell is that?” she asked, moving the curtain aside to look up the street.
“Oh, that’ll be Mr. Barnes, your neighbor.” Y/N glanced at him and Van Horn tilted his head towards the window, raising his eyebrows. He didn’t seem surprised at all by the noise.
“Neighbor?”
“Sure, right across the street there.” Sure enough, as Y/N turned back to the window, she saw a man on a sleek black motorcycle pull into the driveway across the street. She could only see him from the back, but she noted the broad line of his shoulders in his dark jacket, and the brown hair pulled back in a bun. While she watched, he parked the bike under the carport and stood up. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the length of his legs in his faded jeans and the way the fabric looked tight around his thighs. She had to admit she was impressed by the sheer mass of him…
“He’s a nice enough young man, but he keeps to himself, well him and his little gang,” Van Horn sighed and crossed his arms. “You probably won’t see much of him.”
Y/N just nodded and stepped away from the window, forcing her gaze away from the retreating form of her neighbor.
Mr. Van Horn handed over the keys and asked if she needed any help getting settled, which Y/N quickly denied. It was mostly just clothes and personal items she was bringing in, since they had agreed to leave the house furnished - that was the easiest course of action for Y/N, considering the move wasn’t permanent.
After repeating assurances that she would be just fine on her own, and fending off invitations to dinner with his wife, Y/N waved away Mr. Van Horn from the front porch as his truck pulled away from the curb and down the street. She huffed a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging, as she hopped down the steps to her car. She would only bring in her necessities for now, she decided. The rest could come later, and she had 4 days to get everything comfortable and arranged before her first day at the clinic.
She opened the back seat and pulled out her green duffel bag, the one containing daily toiletries, pajamas, and a few changes of clothes and underwear. That would do until she could motivate herself to bring in the rest. As she swung the bag over her shoulder and turned to close the door, she saw a shape in the corner of her eye.
Across the street, her neighbor, Mr. Barnes, was standing by his mailbox. Staring at her. Their eyes met, but he didn’t look away, and she couldn’t bring herself to either. From the front, she could see that a dark shadow of scruff covered his cheeks and jaw. He had shed the leather jacket, leaving him in a white t-shirt that stretched tight across the breadth of his shoulders and chest. Even from 50 feet away, she could tell he was handsome...too handsome.
The slam of her car door jarred them both, and Y/N glanced away, taking a breath before she looked back up at him. Barnes seemed to shuffle slightly, uncomfortable, before offering a weak smile and a slight wave. Before she could say anything, he turned and walked back up the driveway into his house.
Y/N frowned, feeling slightly rejected. But oh well.
She didn’t come here for boys.