cracked cans [ I ]

the dewy morning sun was a gentle reminder of abby's schedule for the day, go to her client's house, muck the paddocks, herd in the sheep that were always running away and most importantly avoid his daughter. clad in white, frilled dresses with fraying edges and saddle shoes caked in mud and little strings of grass that had clung onto them, a little demon she was- best avoided. her bare back was kissed by the soft sunlight seeping through her lace curtain- golden locks of hair splayed down the freckled skin, lashes fluttering against her strong cheeks as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. 'a beer would be nice on a day like this' was really the only motto keeping her going, cheap jobs like this kept her living paycheck to paycheck and struggling to stay secure during the week, thank goodness for smokes and alcohol. the coal-like taste of cigarettes lingered on her pale chapped lips- she hated the smell of it all but the relief it brought could be considered bittersweet.. even if only lasting for a second. with a splash of cold water to the face, rough denim chafing her inner thighs and the hard of her belt buckle secured in place, abby left her shack, her button shirt barely hiding her tanned chest.

herding the sheep was not a problem, nor was mucking the paddock- it was damn easy money and she knew that better than anyone. the sound of shoes squelching in the mud made the butch whip her head around- spotting you. you wore red gingham shorts and a white shirt, trainers much too big for you, which she assumed to belong to your father. abby sighed and pulled her hat over her eyes to block out the blistering heat, sweat dancing down the muscular grooves of her back and chest. you held out a beer to the woman, who snatched it up and cracked the can open- drinking as if famished. once abby had finished drinking she heaved, clutching her stomach which burned with the lingering presence of the beverage. loose hair coils around her braid and hugs the neighbouring strands of hair.
"you shouldn't be out here." abby says, pinching your cheek with a fond smile. here she was, with the client's daughter, who she was strictly told to stay away from. beer was constantly getting her into trouble goddamnit but how could she stay away when a woman with curious eyes and a welcoming smile comes sauntering her way? it was simply in her nature.
"you were the one who said to keep it quiet, yet here you are, showing up on my father's farm like y'own it. people talk, abby, you're bold showing up like that." you say, gesturing to her debauched state, the apple of her cheeks flushed red from booze and beer beneath her tan tone, her button shirt draped lazily over her shoulder- exposing her binded chest to soak in the rays of the sun, the soft hair trail beneath her belly button tiptoeing down beneath her belt buckle and the moles that blessed her skin.
"well, how's a person supposed to stay all handsome-lookin' whilst working in this heat, huh? I don't see you liftin' a single finger over there." abby quips, laughing as she wipes sweat from her forehead, knocking her hat out of place slightly.
"but i think it's better that way." she adds before fixing her hat, the leather is bumpy against her calloused hands- she wonders how it'd feel against yours.
the sun sets over the farm and your mother thanks abby with dinner, chicken pot pie, steaming hot in the ceramic bowl and cling film she was sending it off with. lingering glances were exchanged between the two of you as the cowboy is showered in praise by your parents- unlike earlier, she looked neat, as if she had everything together. dress shirt buttoned to the top and her hat held to her stomach like a polite young man would, which caused your father to quirk a judgemental brow- it dropped within seconds, he had no time to be questioning the fashion choices of the woman who'd just done his monthly farm work within a few hours.
once abby is waved goodbye, you trot after her, she stops. you leave a kiss on her cheek, the feeling lingers and she'd have to savour this one, she'd done such a good job she was sure that she wouldn't need to come back for a good few weeks. she would stay determined to keep that soft, sweet tenderness glued to her skin. a smile later, you run back into your house before anyone noticed your absence.
abby continues walking- with a fat stack of money, which she flicks between her fingers proudly, it was clear someone had slipped in a few extra bills and it sure as hell wasn't your mother or father.