With the Wind | A Short Novel (2 page)

             
He was mesmerizing.  What was it about him?

             
She was in a daze.  Now he was just inches from her ... inches from the gun.

             
She came out of her trance, realizing she had let the pistol slip from her head a little.

             
"No!" she said.

             
He got serious.  "No, my dear.  No. You don't want this.  We don't want this. Do we?" he asked.

             
Tears were coming, tears she'd buried for months, tears she could no longer hide.

             
She felt her body getting weak.

             
His hand reached for hers and she let him.

             
He was right.

             
She didn't want this.

             
His strong hand cautiously and carefully took the gun away from her.

             
She laughed at the stupidity of it.

             
"Stupid gun probably doesn't work anyway," she said.

             
She took it back from him, wanting to return it to its box when - Bang!

             
It went off.

CHAPTER THREE

They could hear people running around and shouting outside the barn trying to determine who fired the shot. 

“I am Daniel,” Daniel declared.

“Misty, Misty Buffett,” she answered.

“My father is coming.  Please don't tell him that…,” Misty began.

Daniel took Misty’s hand in his and gently squeezed it.  “I say nothing.  Our, what is word? secret.”

Who are you? Misty thought, but did not say.  Only a minute ago most of me wanted to die and now...well, I don’t want to die. 

For a brief moment she stared into Daniel’s eyes.  They smiled at her and said, it will be alright, everything will be alright.

Anthony Buffett and Wilson Rubie burst into the barn, looked over and saw Daniel sitting there with Misty; a gun in her right hand, his hand in her left.

“Misty!  What in the hell is going…Put that gun down!  Now!” Anthony barked.

“Daddy, no.  It’s okay.”

She set the gun down on its case. 

“I came out here to get some air.  You know I haven’t been feeling well lately,”

“Who fired the shot?”

“I did.  Daniel, this is Daniel,” Misty said, pointing to her left.  “He saw me holding the gun and introduced himself.  We were joking around, I wasn’t paying attention and I accidentally pulled the trigger.  See, up there.  The bullet is the beam.” 

Anthony and Wilson looked up and saw the very visible bullet hole.

“Why did you load the gun, Misty?” Wilson asked accusingly.

“I was showing off for Daniel, I guess.  I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s my fault,” Anthony said.  “I’ve treated that damn thing like a toy for years.  It’s not a toy, Misty, it’s a weapon.  You could have hurt yourself, or Daniel.”

“I know Dad.  I’m sorry.”

“At least you’re smiling. I haven’t seen your smile for a week,” Wilson said, offering his hand.

Misty responded, moved toward Wilson and took his hand.  “I do feel a bit better.  Blame Daniel.  His English needs some work, but he is a very good listener.”

“Come see me tomorrow, young man,” Anthony ordered.  “I would like to speak with you.”

Daniel stood, smiled at Misty and said, “I ask Jose where to come.” 

Daniel walked out of the barn.

“Are you okay?” Wilson asked Misty after giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, I am.  I need to get ready, dear.  Sorry for the fuss.”

“The guests will be arriving shortly,” Anthony reminded.

“Then I better get moving.  Walk me back, Wilson?”

As they moved toward the house, Wilson noticed Daniel talking with Jose, obviously explaining what had just happened. 

Back in the barn Wilson picked up on something; a tone, a look, a too familiar exchange between Misty and her new friend. 

He didn’t want to read too much into it but whatever it was, he didn’t like it. 

CHAPTER FOUR

“Second door on the left, sir.  Mr. Buffett is expecting you,” the butler said, indicating with the motion of his hand the direction Daniel should follow. 

“Mr. Novikov, please sit down.  May I offer you some tea?” Anthony asked.

“Tea, yes.  Spasibo.”

“You’re from Russia?” Anthony asked.

“Yes, I am Russian.  From Moscow area.”

“How long have you been in America?”

“How long…”  Daniel paused and considered the meaning of every word.  “Ah, yes.  Three months.”

“Are you a student?  Do you…sorry.”  Anthony slowed down.  “Why?  Why did you come to America?”

“I came to work for Petrov Simkalo.  He is, he was, great photographer.  I was to be his assistant.”

“Was?  Where is Mr. Simkalo now?”

“He is dead.”

“Oh my.  Did he die suddenly?”

“Die…suddenly.”  Daniel had to stop and think again.  “Yes, yes.  He die of serdechnyj pristup.  Bad heart.  Day before I arrived.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Spasibo.”

“So you stayed?  I mean, why didn’t you go back to Russia after you found out that Mr. Simkalo had passed on?”

Daniel understood this question too, he had been asked it many times.  “I stay because I cannot go home as otkaz.  Without try to make good life here.”

“Do you like America?”

“Yes!  Very much.”

“Do you have a visa?”

“Two years work visa.  Obtain to work for Simkalo, still good visa.”

“Do you need a job?”

“Yes.  My work is done here at end of week.”

“Jose tells me that you are a natural with horses,” Anthony said, as he stood and walked around his desk to retrieve the tea that had just arrived.

“Natural?  I do not…”

Anthony interrupted.  “You are good with horses.”

“Good, yes.  Very good.  My grandfather have farm.  Many horses.”  Anthony set Daniel’s tea down in front of him on the small serving table. 

“Carlos, my former stable man, was…”   Anthony chose his words carefully.  “Carlos is gone.  I need someone to take care of the horses.  The barn would be your responsibility.  Do you understand?”

“You need horse person?”

Anthony laughed.  “Yes, I need horse person.”

“I can be horse person?”

“Yes.  I will pay you what Carlos was making, two thousand dollars a month plus room and board.  There is a place for you in the bunk house.”

Daniel sipped his tea.  “I make two thousand dollars and take care of horses?”

“Yes.  Do you want the job?”

“Do I want job?  Of course I want job!  Bud'te zdorovy, Mr. Anthony.”

“Good.  It’s settled then.  Welcome to the Buffett Winery, Mr. Novikov.”

“Spasibo.”

Anthony rose again from his desk, carrying his tea with him to the window. 

“Misty is quite taWilson with you, Daniel.”

“Misty.  She is wonderful girl.”

“She told me this morning that you helped her a great deal yesterday.”

“Help her.  Yes, I try and help her.”

“What happened in the barn, Daniel?  With Misty?”

Daniel understood the question.  He also understood the value of being able to feign ignorance when required. 

“I do not understand.”

“The gun, what happ…”

Daniel interrupted.  “Oh, gun.  Misty showing me gun.  She wave gun around and gun fired.  My fault, Mr. Anthony.  Gun and I, how you say?, no stranger.  I should be careful more.”

“Yes, well.  All’s well that ends well, I suppose.  Did you talk with Misty?”

“We talk.”

“You must have.  She says that you really cheered her up.  I’ve given her everything, yet at times she seems so sad.”

“Sad, yes.  Misty was sad.”

“Why?”

“Hard to say, I do not understand English well.”

“How did you cheer her up?”

“Cheer her up….”  Daniel was playing with Anthony again; he knew exactly what he was asking him.  “I tell her jokes.  Russian jokes.  I listen to her, but not know much of what she say.”

Anthony walked over to where Daniel was sitting and put his hand on his shoulder.  “Take care of my horses, Daniel.  And, if you don’t mind, talk with Misty once in a while.  I think you may be the only one around here who can make her smile.”

“Smile, yes.  I make her smile, Mr. Anthony.”

Misty was sitting on the porch as Daniel walked by on his way back to the stables. 

She waved at him and asked, “Yes?”

Daniel nodded and answered, “Yes, spasibo.”

              He felt her watching him. 

             
Who was this girl? Daniel asked himself. 

             
She was a vision from heaven, incredibly beautiful. 

             
He had never seen such a woman before in his life. 

             
He remembered that brief moment in the barn when they looked into each other’s eyes. 

             
They had spoWilson to each other through their eyes.  But what had they said? 

He would do his best to do what Mr. Anthony asked of him. 

He would try and make Misty smile.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Your new Russian cowboy has a death wish.”

“Have a little faith, Jose,” Anthony said as he put his leg up on the fence rail.  “You said he was good.”

“No one is that good.”

Daniel was leading Sweet Pea around by a short rein in a small circle. 

The mare was named Sweet Pea as a joke. 

She was ornery as hell and refused to allow anyone to ride her. 

Anthony was set to ship her off when Daniel told Jose that he would like to try and tame her.

“Legkij.  Medlennyj.”                            

“What’s he saying to her?” Anthony wanted to know.

“I would guess, 'please don’t throw me off and stomp on me’,” Jose replied.

Daniel stopped and held Sweet Pea for a second a few feet away from him.  When he approached her, the horse nervously jerked a little and moved her head. 

“Legkij.  Medlennyj.”

Sweet Pea relented and allowed Daniel to gently stroke her neck.  As he was doing so, Daniel fed her a sugar cube and whispered in her ear.

“Did you tell him that...”

“Yes, Misty.  We told him.  Your new friend insisted on giving it a go anyway.  He’s doing quite well.”

Misty was walking to her car when she saw Daniel in the corral with Sweet Pea. 

Misty realized that she was a bit smitten. 

For the moment she classified it as a teenage type of lustful crush, nothing more. 

She really didn’t know this boy at all.  How could she?  He barely spoke a word of English.