Mud
Theme: Mud
Jeffrey Addison raised his face up to the gray summer sky, letting the cool droplets hit his face a little here, a little there. The rumbling of the All Terrain Vehicle’s engine vibrated in idle, until he flipped the ignition and swung a leg over the four-wheeler’s seat, standing to look out across the horizon.
He never tired of this particular sight. Even with a strong mist hanging on like a cloud, drizzling down into the valley below, the stunning summer colors left him breathless. In late August, the massive amounts of wild daisies with big yellow eyes grew in clumps throughout meadows, surrounded by yellow yarrow and the most delicate phlox. All grew in a sort of natural rhythm year after year, throughout the dry, browning grasses.
As the intensity of the water pelting off Jeff’s baseball cap increased, he raised his head again, and smiled into the rapid downpour. The only other thing he loved more than the view was the feel of cold mountain rain on a hot summer day.
“Better get going,” he murmured, realizing how dark the afternoon sky had become. As lightening flashed to the west, he counted ‘til the thunder rolled, and winced when he barely made it to ten.
Luckily, his cabin lay down the road just a few miles.
Straddling the massive machine, he brought the green, metallic beast to life, and headed down the old logging trail, sliding along the way. What most didn’t understand about the mountains of Idaho was that although meadows and trees lived alongside streams and rivers, desert climate also prevailed, and flooding could and did occur, forcing the old logging roads to bog down in puddles inches deep. To make matters worse, with the rain came the sinking mud.
By the time he’d made it to the bottom of the hill and could pick up some speed, the storm thundered just overhead, and he flipped into fourth, aiming for the straight-away. Not even a mile to go and he’d be safe in home and hearth. He’d be snug in the family cabin.
Then he whipped around the last corner going a little too fast in the driving rain, expecting every other sane person to be inside; but the dark haired woman sprinting for her life down the dirt road took him by surprise, causing him to screech and slide sideways into the ditch.
He tipped up on two side tires, and held himself balanced precariously. Tossing his weight over to the opposite side, he forced the vehicle back onto all fours, giving the shocks a good workout, and making his heart hammer in his chest like never before.
"Well, shit," he muttered, "that'll get the blood pumping." With rubbery legs from the prospect of barely avoiding a massive road rash or worse, he stood, shook out his limbs.
He'd completely forgotten about the woman for half a second, and flinched when she touched his arm.
"I-I'm s-s-s-soorr-r-ry," she stammered, mostly from the cold penetrating the thin cotton of her tank top, although he could easily see the shock of his near accident in her wide eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders, engulfing the young woman.
"Y-y-yes," she murmured. As he rubbed her now denim-clad arms, she drew a deep, even breath, and said, "Yes, I'm okay. Cold. Honestly, I thought you were done for."
He didn't need her to mention that had the accident happened just a hundred yards down the road, he would most likely be on the way to the hospital. There, the edge of the road simply didn't exist. Instead, the gravel gave way to dirt and underbrush growing nearly vertical on the sleep slopes of the drop-off.
"Where are you heading?" Jeff asked, as her shaky nerves calmed.
"We've got a place several miles up the road," she stated, thinking of the cozy cabin miles down the road. With its warm tones and toasty fireplace, she loved curling up in a blanket on the couch more than just about anything on a cold winter night; or in this case, a rainy summer afternoon - rapidly dropping from steamy hot to downright chilly, as a steady breeze kicked in and sank the rain straight to her bone.
"Look, why don't you come to my cabin. It's just down the gravel road that takes off to the left after the bend," he offered. "You can dry off and I can give you a ride home from there."
Warily, she considered his offer, finally saying, "I don't even know your name."
Grinning at the intimacy they already shared, he stopped rubbing her arms and held out an a hand, "Jeff. Jeff Addison."
Sizing him up, she considered what she saw in front of her, added to it the things she'd heard about the Addison clan from others around the area, and accepted his palm. "I'm Megan Donovan. Everyone calls me Meg."
"Nice to meet you, Meg," he said with a grin, suddenly realizing just how pretty she was, and feeling a little uncomfortable about it. She couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen to his twenty six years of age. Guiding her to the four-wheeler, he settled on the seat and sat her behind him. With a kick of the gear shift, he slid into first gear, and before long picked up speed. Within a few shorts minutes and through a now rapidly blowing wind, the cold penetrated them both.
Meg's eyes would have popped out of her head at the size of Jeff's place, had she not been numb from the few minutes barreling down the road. Instead, she was back to feeling like she may never warm up again; so she felt absolute gratitude walking into the vast river stone entry, where heat and comfort blasted away the cold.
Rushing to the couch, he grabbed a soft blanket and handed it to Meg, who looked at him utterly appalled.
"Are you kidding me? This is a cashmere blanket. I am not wiping mud and grime off with this," she exclaimed, and then figured Jeff must be like her 24-year-old brother Kert (short for Kermit), who probably would have done the same thing. Men, Meg figured, sometimes didn't understand the important things.
Speaking to him like she would Kert, or a very small child, she very slowly said, "Okay, Jeff. Do you have towels here? Towels will work."
"Sure," he murmured, trying not to laugh at the look of irritation on her face. He knew that look. His baby sister Bailey wore it often.
And usually for the same reason.