1 McKane's Kind

Chancy was passing through, trying to find a place to settle down. She had just hit the desert country. She was traveling through a small town, not much there. Sign said Stand, New Mexico. She missed the population details, but it couldn't be much. A hotel, a few restaurants. The hotel caught her attention. A starving artist sale. She pulled into the parking lot.

Mason was just packing up the remainder of his landscapes, when he saw her. She had strait red hair to the middle of her back and cowgirl boots. Low cut faded jeans with a flare at the bottom a grey t shirt mid-thigh, with a green flannel tied at the waist. Rolled up cowgirl hat.

She walked over to him. Shit! He thought.

"Mind if I look at your landscapes, or is it too late? These are the only places I can buy art work. Starving artist shows." She spoke in a sexy, smoky voice. He could just detect a slight drawl.

Mason was hardly starving, but oh well. He was now. He was a hungry man.

She had on square bold purple glasses that brought out her piercing bright intelligent green eyes.

Mason took off his cowboy hat to reveal short blonde hair with red brown undertones.

His grey eyes took her in. He smiled. His nose looked like it had been broken a couple of times, but it had character and his teeth were naturally straight. Not as if he had braces growing up. One or two slightly crooked.

His slightly distinguishable drawl took her breath away. She looked at the landscape. Actually, she hated it.

She extended her hand. "Chancy Clermont." She smiled. Her whitened smile was perfect. Her hand was balanced. Just soft. He wondered if the rest of her was like that.

His hand was rough and a bit stained from paint. "Mason McKane," they held on to each other a bit longer than was necessary.

He heard her cell. "Hold on, let me get this. She had the latest Smartphone. She walked away for privacy and put one index finger to her left ear while talking into the phone on her right side, which was her habit, from youth.

He was sitting with feet braced apart and hands hanging down. Watching her. The thigh length grey shirt accentuated her small tight ass. Nice.

"Sorry. I'd been expecting that call." She smiled placing a hand distractedly through her hair.

"Could I look at the others?" She inquired.

"Go ahead." He gestured toward the landscapes. A glimmer of amusement in his eyes, still thinking of her ass.

"What's this one?" She asked, noticing him this time.

It was one of his more modern paintings.

"A take on a classic Scottish tapestry. I've been working on those lately." He stated with a sense of pride.

"35? Could you come down any?" She asked imploringly flirty.

"Not really, I'd barely make a profit as it is," he responded calculatingly.

"I'll take it then." She replied begrudgingly.

He wrapped it up and framed it for her.

"Are you from around here?" He inquired.

"Actually, I'm passing through. I'm looking for a place to settle down. I recently lost my job. I'm a short order cook. Know anyone needing help? I might consider mmm… where the hell am I? The sign said Stand, New Mexico." She asked glancing around.

He wrote his number on the brown paper wrapping.

"You?" She asked. "You need help?" She asked enthusiastically stunned.

"No, just call me if you decide to stay in town, the second number is for the diner. You just got hired on. I know the owner. I really need to go." He stated a little rushed.

She noticed the message on the wrapping. Her heart skipped a beat. She blushed.

She finished placing the picture carefully in the back seat and then ran back to the warehouse. Everyone had cleared out.

She had his number.

She exclaimed to the empty warehouse. She walked back to the car.

She called a couple of days later.

"I'm single. I was hoping you'd call." He said smiling, into the phone.

"I normally wouldn't call for a date." She replied hesitantly.

"I would, so you're in good company." He stated directly.

"What're your interests?" He inquired.

"I like reading, country line dancing and collecting affordable art." She said.

"Country line dancing." He smiled. "I know just the honky tonk."

"I'll meet you there." She replied.

"It's called The Single. If you'll find me anywhere, most nights, it'll be at the Single."

Saturday, 7pm. She was there. The band was setting up. She saw Mason. He looked up and smiled. He seemed different tonight. So did she.

They were both energized. He ran up to her. "The first set starts at 8." He replied.

They danced most of the evening. Red heads. Mason noticed another red head across the bar. She was with someone, but she was beautiful. Long strawberry blonde hair. Always got to him. Red heads. If he had to choose, he would choose Chancy.

They drove home separately.

Before parting ways, he asked if she would like to go out the next night.

She explained she was getting settled into her new house. "Would you like to help me unpack and move in?" She asked.

Mason went to his favorite weekend diner for lunch.

"Order up," She called out, as she placed the order paper in the clip. She stopped and peeked out the order window. "Mason?" She smiled.

She never missed a beat. She flipped the eggs and removed bagels from the toaster at the same time.

"We didn't have a chance to talk much, love. How is the food here? He asked the older gentleman sitting beside him." The endearment didn't go unnoticed. She smiled slightly showing dimples and light eyes. She blushed slightly as red heads were likely to do.

"Not bad," the gentleman said.

"Head short order cook." She smiled again. She did that a lot.

"Would you like to stick around until I get a break?" She asked.

She walked up to him. She had on straight leg jeans this time with tennis shoes. She was wearing a brown sleeveless shirt. Brown was a good color for her. He imagined she could wear just about any color with her skin tone and hair color.

"Are you an artist? Right?" She asked.

"I'm a contracted painter. I didn't want to starve." He smiled, hoping she would get his meaning. "I paint my landscapes on the side." He shrugged. "Seven years ever since graduating high school." He smiled endearingly.

"Would you like to go out to dinner?" He asked. "It would be toned down from dancing the other night. Give us a chance to get to know each other." He grinned.

"I'd love to. I know a great bar and grill." She said, having been there a couple of days.

"Where?" He asked. "Maybe I know the place."

"The Lone Ranger. On route 70. Do you know it?" She asked.

"Actually no, I can look it up." He told her.

"No need probably. I give good directions." She told him in her smoky sexy drawl.

"Just take old wind mill road to west 84 and then go south onto… Oh, do you speak directions or left and right?" She interrupted herself.

"I can manage north and south I think." He smiled, amazed.

"Well, then south onto 80 and the Lone Ranger is on the North side of the road." She said.

"I guess we could meet around 9." He said.

"See ya then." She smiled and they met up that evening.

He was interested to see what she was going to eat. She was an unusual woman.

She ordered the lettuce wedge salad. Unusual for these parts. He thought.

He ordered his usual.

She ate delicately and little.

"I'm going fishing this weekend. Early. Would you like to go?" He asked.

"Actually, I'm a competitive person, so I love to fish and I'll hopefully catch more than you." She said, cheekily.

"I'm the best damn fisherman this side of the Mississippi, so wanna bet you'll beat me?" He asked.

"If you're the best fisherman, then why aren't you on a circuit?" She asked.

"Too much competition." He smiled sexily.

"And I'm not?" She asked haughtily.

"I don't know, I haven't heard your name." He responded none too politely.

When they got at the lake, he showed her his brown suede tennis shoes. "I traded in my boots for brown suede shoes to fish." He smiled with humor lighting his eyes. "Still got my hat though." He blinked at her.

They sat on the bank. She took out her tackle box. It was pastel pink. She opened it. It was filled with pastel pink artificial fishing lures.

"You expect to fish like that?" He asked.

She smiled at him sweetly.

"Be quiet, or you'll scare all the fish away." She said.

They cast their lines and he was sitting there with his legs bent at the knees. Waiting. His pole propped up on the ground.

She was sitting with one leg under the other and the top leg pulled up above her other knee. She had on her tan moccasins that were laced up to her knees. It was early in the morning.

"How are those lures working out for you?" He asked.

She got a bite. She agilely jumped up. "Apparently great!" She yelled.

Catfish. A great catch.

"You can't know how happy I am right now. I can fry a fish dammit. Fresh fish. You filet it, and I can fry it up. Cornmeal." Her laughter echoed across the water.

He was agitated. "I'm glad you're so happy ma'am. Now sit your ass down and let's fish." He said.

She caught two more.

"Let's go. With the sun rising, we won't catch as much, or should I say you won't." He grouched.

She waited for him to open her door, which he would have done anyway. He watched her climb up in the cab. Nice. He walked around to the driver's side and took his hat off and his wallet out and placed them on the console. She pulled an older model iPod out and the connector. "Do you mind?" She set up the artist option and played every Fisk Path song.

"Be my guest." He didn't like the way this was going. He'd seen her phone and wondered why she didn't just use that, but…people have their reasons.

"He's one of my favorite new artist's," Mason explained.

They went to her place. Most of the apartment was clean. Well lived in, a little cluttered, but not bad. Then he got to the kitchen. Clean. The kitchen was clean. She cooked. "Yes Ma'am." He was thinking. His senses took over. She prepared the catfish and he could hear it sizzling in the pan. The smell of seasoned cornmeal. Fried potatoes with caramelized onions. The sight of her cooking. Ok, um he was speechless. There was nothing he liked more than fresh caught fish out of the pan. Catfish especially. He walked in. Homemade hushpuppies. Damn. "I'm ready to… damn woman, I'm ready to eat. When will you be done?" He asked. "You've been in here more than an hour." He said.

"Almost. You can sit at the table." She smiled.

He wasn't a delicate eater that night and he didn't eat little. That was the best damn food I've had in a while." He said.

She was half way to love. He actually knew how to compliment the cook. Some people didn't.

She walked him to the door. She looked up at him and he was looking at her eyes. He knew they weren't contacts. They were green, just what you would think of when you thought of the color green. She looked up into his eyes and saw them for the first time. Grey, they complimented his blonde hair. She reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders. They kissed deeply and her toes curled. She could smell his after shave. She buried her hands in his hair. Soft. She ran her fingers up to the top of his hair and pulled him closer for a deeper kiss. She felt his five o'clock shadow with her slightly curled fingers. She then pulled away.

"I'd like to see you again." He said.

"We'll see." She smiled and showed him to the door.

He was in shock.

He walked to the truck in shock.

He placed his brown suede shoe on the kick up step on his pickup. He swung his leg up. He sat there. Damn Ma'am.

Chancy unlaced her moccasins, sat on the steps and said, "Damn."

Mason was working on one of his landscapes when Chancy knocked. "I decided to see you again." She said.

"Grateful." Mason tilted his hat. "Can we pick up where we left off?" He questioned.

"Fisk Path?" She asked innocently.

"Yeah." He glanced to the right and bit his lip.

Today, she looked good. She had on a tight pastel pink shirt with writing across the front. Fitted jeans and square toed boots with a slight heel. Her shirt was tucked into jeans rolled up slightly at the bottom. She had a light tan that complimented her red hair. Her hair, which had seemed longer straight, was now let down and in tight unusual spiral curls that probably took forever to curl. They were spiraled until the end when they straightened. Her hair was thick and silky, so, the curls were voluminous. He really wanted to muss it.

"Would you like to see what I'm working on?" He asked.

She looked at the landscape. The red and pink hues attracted her.

"It's nice, but I think you should add some natural tones, might add to the setting." She gently interjected.

She was telling him how to paint now? He paused.

She was bubblier today than usual.

"'Wanna go for a walk?" She asked.

"How 'bout a ride?" He asked.

They got on his bike and they headed out. They got to the desert and Mason stopped and threw down a blanket. He pulled out water. She rolled over onto her stomach and took in the scenery. "It is so peaceful here. I wish I could stay here sometimes. No work, no one around. Just for a while. I remember one time my family drove across country. Every time we drove through the desert, I was asleep. I'm grateful to be here with you now." She sighed, a satisfied sound.

He was on his side facing her. He rolled onto his back and looked sideways at her. She glanced at him and something passed between them. They had been there awhile, so he asked if she wanted to leave. She looked down and they didn't have to say anything about what had passed between them.

They headed back and when they got to his apartment, they melded together heatedly. It didn't take them long to undress and they were coming down from a strong passion. They lay there. What had passed between them had been too strong an emotion to fight.

The next days were passionate. Mason and Chancy spent as much time as they could together. The energy that they gained from contact with each other was incredible.

Mason asked Chancy if she wanted to head out to the country. "I'd love to get away." She replied.

"I want to take you somewhere." Mason pulled over to the graveled semi-driveway that you found in the country. This county had plenty of them. My parents owned this land. They gave it to me. Not much now, but I do still own a few acres to plant on and a barn. They sat at a culvert dangling their feet over the edge. Bare feet. Chancy laid down on her stomach and dangled her hands down. She looked at the muddy surface below. There had been a little more rain than usual this year, so there was a little standing water.

Mason had on a baseball cap today. Adidas. He took it off by the bill and brushed through his hair, replaced it and gave her a sexy smile. He grabbed her hand and helped her up. They walked hand and hand to his field. Soybeans this year. They walked through the field with the plants brushing their jean clad legs. They got to the barn and he opened the doors. She wasn't used to being in barns, even though she'd never lived in a big city. Mason planned to take her to the haystack above and let nature take its course. That's when all hell broke loose. She went up the creaky wooden ladder. When she got to the top, she saw a huge spider. "AAAAhhhh," She yelled. Mason quickly brushed it off the edge with his boot. Some women were sensitive to killing critters. He didn't know her well enough to determine if she were one of those kind.

"Come here, baby." He smiled into her hair. They lay down and watched the sun set out the loft door.

They walked back in silence.

They went back to his house. They went to the back yard and he started a bonfire.

He bundled her up in his insulated blanket.

They sat there watching the mesmerizing flames. The crackle of the fire echoed in the air.

The sound of crickets soothed her to sleep. It took him awhile to relax and drift off to sleep. Right there outside in the blanket.

The next day, he woke to find her getting ready. She quickly dressed in front of him. He caught a glimpse of her lower back as she shimmied into her jeans and tucked in her shirt. After what they had shared, she was still modest.

She took her makeup bag out and quickly put on a light glow of natural make-up.

"I have to go to work." She grimaced. Sunday mornings were crazy at the diner.

"I'll be in." He sat up and as the sheet fell down, she glimpsed his smooth chest. He ran a hand through his hair back and forth, tousling it, and smiled sexily at her. She looked at him like someone who looked at a new lover.

"What the hell!" she said.

She jumped on the bed and pushed him down and kissed him.

He started to tickle her and she laughed uncontrollably.

"Get to work." He smiled.

"I could call in sick." She said.

"Love, I've got a contract. It's going to keep me busy for a while. 39 Autumn St., if you need me. I'll be there for the next week or so. Besides, you can't skip out on the diner on a Sunday." He said.

"I'm good at math, did I tell you that?" Chancy asked.

"And?" He asked.

"And I've become a fair typist." She said matter-of-factly.

"And?" He asked.

"Basically those are my skill sets and there's one other thing." She smiled.

"That is?" He asked again.

"Love, I love ya." She looked at him with soft intensity in her eyes.

"You used my endearment, love." He drawled with as much intensity as was in her green eyes.

"It's catchy. I love to hear you talk. If I use your endearment, you're with me, Mason." She smiled.

Mason sounded like her endearment.

It was a couple of days before Chancy went to see Mason.

He was up on a ladder. He was painting the ceiling with a plastered design. He glanced down and smiled. He fluidly descended the ladder. He grabbed her upper arms and gently moved his hands up and down them. There was a slight smattering of freckles on her shoulders. He then kissed the freckles on her cheeks and pert nose. She had enough and kissed him solidly on the mouth. Passionately. He was getting over heated and she had to push him away. "Mason, you are on the job." She squealed, laughing.

"Mace?" His buddy asked. "Care to introduce me?" Clint asked.

"Clint, Chancy." Mason smiled. The jealous smile not touching his cold eyes, like back off.

"Nice to meet you." Chancy smiled. "How long have you been working together?" She asked.

"About 3 years." Mace saw interest in Clint's eyes.

"We're going to grab lunch," Mason took Chancy's arm and hurriedly directed her out the door. Mason called back as they left the house, "Better keep that plaster hot, Clint. That's the only thing on you that's 'gonna be hot if you look at Chancy sideways again."

"I like to watch you work." She said swatting him on the arm. She liked the play of muscles in his arms and upper body.

"Money?" He asked.

"What?" She asked.

"You like it that I'm making money?" He asked.

"I make my own. I like the way you move." She lifted her eyebrows and looked at him intently. They sat close to each other and as they made their plans, Mason's hand brushed Chancy's. He linked their fingers. Her hands were so delicate. She loved the feel of his callused working hands. He took them to his mouth and worked his way to her wrist. They then kissed. Slowly at first, escalating to newer levels of emotional steps. She then leaned back on the couch with him above her. They reached the pinnacle of the top level of physical and emotional ecstasy and final descended smoothly.

They made a quick trip home and he was back to work.

Chancy went to Mason's and he invited her to swing on his back porch. There wasn't much of a yard, about an acre, and there was a concrete slab for a porch, but there was a beautiful warm breeze caressing her face that she couldn't describe and would never feel again. The moment was invigorating for both of them.

They decided to go bike riding since it was such a pretty day. They found an old country trail and wound up at a dilapidated log cabin. Chancy's breath caught in her throat. The sight was breathtaking. There was mud all around, but she felt like she had stepped back in time. There was an old covered wagon tire frame and some farming tools.

"I love old tools like this." Mason said.

"I wish we could take a picture, I forgot my phone though." She exclaimed.

"We'll be back." Mason replied gently.

He went up behind her back and massaged her shoulders. His hands were amazing. She felt so relaxed. He then cupped her breasts and splayed his hand across her stomach. She felt passion start within her. He turned her and kissed her until she felt it within herself. "We should head back," he replied. "We can finish this later." He promised.

They did finish. By the time they got home, Chancy wanted to take a nap on the couch. She was sleeping while he cleaned the kitchen. She had her arm bent above her head, when he walked in. He clasped her hand in his and moistened her lips with his and felt the pulsating warmth of her kiss. He then let his weight awaken her. The kiss deepened to what it had been. She kissed the hollow in his throat then moved to his chest, splaying her hands across his body. She then moved lower to the junction of his low-cut jeans and unbuttoning them, she took him in her hands. He unbuttoned her blouse and without unhooking her orange and white polka dot bra, cupped her breasts. He then moved his head down her body and untied the bow lacing her panties up the front at her navel with his teeth. He slid her soft cotton orange laced panties down and slid them slowly off her legs. He entered her and they mutually entered a state of ecstasy.

"I love you." Mason exclaimed.

"I have never experienced this before." She smiled.

They curled up on their side and fell asleep, until he woke her up hours later to make love to her again.

It was the next week that they decided to go camping. It was the end of summer and the weather had cooled somewhat. Sunny and 70's. Mid-August. Going into fall. They pulled up in Mason's truck. They found a spot away from the camper's using electricity. They opted for a primitive site. She was watching Mason move deftly around the campsite. She helped set up the campfire and did the food prep. She then went to help Mason set up the tent. "Love, hand me that post." Mason glanced over at her. They fished again and went back to camp for the evening.

They walked around camp. "I love this site." Chancy said. "How did you find it?" She asked.

"I've been going here since I was young. From mud pies to four wheelers. Good memories." Mason replied.

Chancy loved swimming in the lake until she felt the slime on the bottom. "Mace, I'm gonna sunbathe awhile." She said. She loved the relaxing warmth.

The walk back to camp was also relaxing, but they were exhausted by the time they go back to camp. Most of the campers were already eating by the time they got back to camp.

Mason started the campfire, and Chancy did the food prep. They simply cooked brats and had beers. Easy.

The neighbors at the campsite came over to visit. They were an older couple who said they came to this campsite to hike once a year.

"How do you like the site?" They asked Mason and Chancy.

"I've been going here my whole life, I've always enjoyed it." Mason replied. "Chancy?"

"I love camping. I am better at it than I used to be after years of camping. I used to hate the outdoors, then I embraced my childhood. Everyone loved to be outdoors in my family when I was growing up." She smiled.

Mace and Chancy settled into the tent for the night. They used a two-man sleeping bag, which put them in close proximity.

Mace and Chancy felt currents of energy flowing between them and the earth. The solid earth, solid like their relationship.

"It feels amazing to be out in the open like this with you. I always get too cold at night, though. The dew blankets the warmth of your body. Bone chilling," She said.

Mason looked down and asked what her favorite part of the day was.

"When we sat on the rock and read about the campsite. We just sat there and took the day in. Just being with you." She smiled into his chest.

"This is the best time I've had here. With you. Honest." He said.

"Did you like the food?" She asked.

"A Brat with Beer. Best brat I've ever had here. Honest, love." He smiled.

"That's the reason I'm staying with you. You complement my cooking. I don't like other complements, but I do like it that you like my cooking." She stated emphatically.

"I'm getting colder already." She told him.

He tucked her close to his body. She felt secure from the night's darkness.

He leaned in to kiss her. He knew the sensitive parts of her body by now. Her earlobe, neck… he made love to all of them. She touched his body. The body that housed the soul that her soul craved. The body she couldn't wait to be joined with. She touched him and he ignited. He stroked her from the inside out and they collapsed exhausted.

They travelled back home and knew something had changed between them.

It was toward the winter when Chancy walked through her door, and saw Mason fixing her couch. She had an older couch which needed repair, and he was handy like that. She smiled, "Thanks, I really need to buy a new one, but I just haven't."

The next day was a surprise. Mason had left a note and a map as to where he would like to meet her. The desert. He didn't have to draw her a map or program her GPS. She was good enough at directions that she knew where to go. The place where they had first united. She travelled there and saw him. He was in his yellow dodge challenger. He had one foot against the challenger and one foot bracing his body against the earth. He was wearing his cowboy hat. He glanced over and smiled from beneath his hat. His face in shadows. She looked at him and wondered what in the world he was up to. As she walked toward him, she noticed his key ring. She saw a reflected flash of light. She ran up to him and grabbed the chain that was behind his back. The ring was beautiful. He placed it on her ring finger. It was a thin silver band surrounded by diamonds and protected by another layer of silver.

"A lull in the conversation. Nice. I love to make you speechless. Not hard to do really. Our best times come that way." He smiled. "I am speechless. The ring is beautiful. I just hope our marriage creates more lulls. I would hate to miss out on our best times." She smiled.

"I'm taking a stab at the dark, but I'm assuming you are able to wear this ring?" he asked. The ring was the perfect fit. "Yeah, you're in the right place. And so am I!" Mason stated.