#lab Gabriel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluesidez · 7 days ago

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Bless Your Heart | 1. HELLO, MY OLD FRIEND

You're nervous, wary of your new environment, but you're excited to take on the challenge of becoming a ranch hand. Meeting the O'Hara brothers is sure to stray you one way or another.

tread lightly ⋆⋆⋆ humor, Miguel is...difficult, mentions of food, animals, animal manure, I think that's it!

word count ⋆⋆⋆ 5.6k (shoutout to the beta, DA WIFE!! @slushycoookie 💚)

note on the fridge ⋆⋆⋆ Special shoutouts to @opaloharas @monarchberrysblog @miguelhugger2099 @hysterical-reblogging as well as the Miggy server for guiding me with this story! It would still be in the drafts without y'all. Huge thanks to my beta Cookie! 🥺 I can't begin to say how much you've helped me. It would literally take up 20+ pages. JUST KNOW! THAT YOU ROCK!

last | next ℧ masrterlist ℧ AO3

JULY

You didn’t know you’d be back in the south so soon. A part of you wanted to laugh at yourself for crawling back to the place that you swore you’d leave behind.

Growing up here can be rewarding, but the itch to escape the fear that others placed on the outside world to make your own decisions rushed through your body every year.

So, you did just that.

You broke free of the grasps of superstitious aunts, traditional geezers, and terrified grandparents. You spread your wings to the city. You traveled the world. You got to know family that knew the ins-and-outs of various transportation systems better than you ever could.

And yet in those small, almost insignificant, moments, you found yourself yearning for the South.

You missed the way the air smelt before it rained. The expanse of land as far as the eye could see. The warmth of your closest family who never quite understood your ambitions, but urged you to chase after them anyway. The taste of grease and hot food, no one else in the world could match those down-to-earth flavors.

You missed home.

Subconsciously, you found the South in the things you did.

In the way you added packets of sugar to any tea you had because apparently no one knows what sweet tea is.

In the way you called people “ma’am” and “sir” when you weren’t really thinking about it.

In the way you had a little saying for every circumstance.

In the way you suddenly started to crave butter pecan ice cream as if you were in your 40s.

Still, home didn’t exactly mean back under your parents’ roof. You didn’t miss home that much, enough to have a curfew at your big age. You figured that if you were going to move back, it would be to an area where you could at least catch the nearest flight to some far off land.

The advertisement to be a ranch hand was a bit obscure, but the doodle of the big family on the corner of it was enough to sell it to you. It probably wasn’t the best idea to pack everything up so soon, but the pay was so unbelievable that you decided to test fate.

Your own family would have a heart attack. First, you were going to be almost in the middle of nowhere and second, you were going to be doing hard labor. Definitely not the little girl they watched grow up anymore.

It all felt surreal.

The sun was beating down on your legs through the windshield of a taxi-van. No tint was a match for this heat. You could hear your suitcases and bags rattling in the back with the one box of things you just couldn’t sell. You weren’t throwing away pots and pans, and no one wanted to buy your old dragonfly lamp.

The driver was a nice old man who spoke to you like you were a long lost relative, but he was starting to get way too quiet for your liking, and, like an idiot, you didn’t put the address in your phone. The service was spotty and all you could see was miles and miles of tall trees and power lines.

You leaned back and hugged your purse close to your body, letting out a quiet huff.

“You nervous?” the man asks.

You panned your eyes from a “Honey For Sale” sign to look at the rearview mirror.

“A little. But, you gotta jump in with both feet, you know?”

Such a light answer for what could be a walk right into your untimely disappearance.

Or budding success. You weren’t sure yet.

“That’s right. Wish I could get you to say that to my daughter. All she wanna do is lay around and watch TV all day.”

“Well,” your heart picks up as he takes a turn. The land was huge, red gates covering acres of green land and a few buildings spread across it. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Just give her time.”

He laughed as he pulled up to the gate, “Ain’t that much time in the world. Do you need me to drive further?”

“No, right here is fine, I’ll just drag everything through.”

You were quick to get out and get your things, body running on adrenaline. The cash you handed him was some of the last bit you had left. You're tense, wary of the new environment, but more than anything, you were excited for something new.

“Sure you don’t want me to drive a little closer? Those houses are far.”

“I think here is good. Don’t want to startle anybody.”

“Alright,” he slams the trunk and gets back to the driver’s seat. “You be safe now.”

With a quiet thanks and a wave, you watch his van back out of the rocky path. The dust under the tires makes you cough.

Roughed up combat boots scratch against the rocks in the path as you move to open the gate. It creaks loudly as you push past and the wooden sign burned with an H-marked spider jolts against it.

The person you were contacting said to just come on in once you got here. No number to call, no person to look for, no dress code.

Out in the open, you could hear cows talking to each other and birds singing their tunes. The wheels of your suitcase against the trail become the back beat of their song.

The land was truly beautiful, the few homes standing tall and proud against the plains. A small pond was at your right, ducks and mosquitoes floating over the top.

Following the path, you walked until you reached the first person you could find, the blurry image of reds, blues, and browns coming to form him.

A tall glass of water, taller than any other man you’ve ever met. You were sure if he ever fell off of a horse, it would be a hard flight to the ground.

The hair peeking from under his hat was as brown and curly as the chocolate shavings you’d see on grocery store cakes. The skin you could see was a rich caramel, hidden in the shade of dark felt.

You scanned the expanse of his back, wondering how he worked in clothes that made you feel hot just looking at them. Even with the shadow of the rim, sweat was still beating down his neck and soaking up the collar of his plaid button down.

A thick belt was snug around his waist and his jeans were mighty tight. Dirt caked the hem of them and walking your eyes up, every white stitch was accounted for. A name was on his back pocket, but it was too thin, too scrambled to see.

Dragging a hefty suitcase across the rocky path, you got closer to him, and with an extended hand and a polite smile, you introduce yourself.

“You needed a ranch hand?”

He turns his head to the side, barely acknowledging you, and turns back with a grumble, “Of course, this is the person I end up with.”

Your brows furrow, “What was that?”

“Nothing. You can put your stuff in the guest house. Join me at the barn in five minutes.”

“Do you have a name or were you never taught any manners?”

He stopped fiddling with the broken buckle of a saddle and turned completely towards you, “You talk back to all your bosses on the first day?”

Thick eyebrows lowered as he squinted at you and your breath hitched. If his hair was chocolate shavings, then his eyes were the mocha cake topped with swirls of coffee icing.

No man needed eyelashes that pretty nor lips that perfect and full. His arms were crossed as he stood there, body barely contained in his clothes. No man deserved to be that big with a striking face to match.

It was dangerous.

“Most bosses give me their names,” you drop your stretched hand, and the air lulls between you two. The purse across your body felt like it was digging in your skin. “Or at least a greeting.”

“Well, you’ll learn pretty quickly that I’m not most bosses.”

You bite your tongue, watching as he goes back to what he’s doing. That southern drawl in his voice was lingering in your mind as you realized that he truly meant what he said.

There was no proper introduction, no tour, no beginner’s manual.

Breathing deep you try again, “Can you point me in the right direction?”

His head flicks to the right, stance unmoving like a pillar. The three houses were all that were left and the barn was in another direction.

Gripping the handle again, you made your way back to the trail.

With a hand over your eyes to block the sun, you wonder if the guy from earlier would care if you passed out in the middle of the road. The distance between the houses and the animals feels further than it needed to be.

“Hey, hey, hey! Where ya heading?”

You slow your pace, unsure if the man sitting on a swinging bench was talking to you or someone else.

“Well, don’t just stand there. C’mon!” he waves over with the excitement of a little kid. “I don’t bite.”

Getting closer, the guy grunts as he stands and wipes his hands on his jeans. He’s just as tall as the first man you met, but he looks lighter, happier.

He smiles as you pull your bag to the porch, brown lips stretching to show pretty teeth. He tips his felt hat off, and when he steps into the light, the sun dances across his eyes, bits of brown tapping along a hazel base.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he sticks out a hand and places his hat back, something you expected the first man to do. “I’m Gabriel O’Hara. Welcome to The Huntsman Farms! ‘Where the stallions roam free.’”

You shake his hand with no hesitation, noting the strength in his grip, the roughness of his fingertips, “Thank you, I’m glad to be here. Although, I’m not sure if your buddy was informed?”

Gabriel pauses, then looks over to the paddock with a grimace, “Uh, he’s not too fond of visitors. A little bit of a stick in the mud. Sorry about that. I promise he’s all hat and no cattle. Figuratively.”

“That hat is pretty tall, then. He did mention a guest house in this general direction.”

“And to that guest house, I will guide you.”

He grabs your case and lifts it up with ease, turning to go behind one of the most stark-white houses you’ve ever seen.

There was a slight limp in his stride, noticeable enough for you to want to grab everything back, but watching him walk in front of you was entrancing.

Another pair of thighs and calves that fill denim cuts just before they make room to cover his boots. The brown belt hugged his waist nicely and the expanse of his back rooted itself in his t-shirt.

Sweat was building on your scalp.

Were all the men on this farm that built?

“So, is it your first time in this neck of the woods?”

You blink, “In Texas?”

“In the countryside, hun.”

“Oh, no! Born and raised in the South. I have plenty of family that lived in the country. I wouldn’t call myself a connoisseur of all things country, though.”

“As long as you can stand the heat, I think you’ll be alright. Had a guy sign up for the job and he passed out on the first day. Poor thing couldn’t tell a calf from a kid.”

“Well, Mr. O’Hara, I can assure you that I know that much. And a little heat never hurt anybody.”

“Glad to hear it,” he laughs. “And please, call me Gabriel. It’s a heap of O’hara’s on this land alone. Gotta keep track.”

You hum in understanding, thinking back to the family name on the advertisement.

Looking to the backyard next to the path, you notice a wooden playset with hot pink spray paint fading away to green on the slide. There’s a giant tree with a lone tire swing and a red wagon piled with lantanas and pink ladies under it.

The guest house matches the atmosphere of the playful area: pale teal wood with a chocolate brown door and window shutters. Three rocky steps lead to a welcome mat shaped like a cloud, and a few shrubs run along the edge of the house.

Gabriel steps on the stones, body stiff as he places your suitcase right by the door.

“Are you the owner?” you find yourself asking, steering your mind away from its earlier spiral.

He straightens up as he unlocks the door, grin prominent even though he wasn’t facing you.

“You could say that. I pride myself on taking care of the critters when I can,” the door creaks and he finally uses the handle of your bag to pull it in. “No unhappy chickens. No angry bulls. Unless I’m on one.”

“You’re a bull rider? Are you pulling my leg, Gabriel?”

“Oh, I wish someone was pulling mine. This last sucker got me good. I didn’t stretch that well before I got on ‘em and my bullfighters were scattered. Next thing I know, I’m in the air with three seconds left and my fingers slipping from the rope. Then, boom! Landed on the gate with one ankle in between the bars and a pull so deep, I’m on fire.”

Gritting your teeth and breathing in air through the gaps, your muscles tense like you were there.

“God, are you ok?”

“Well, you’re still staring at this pretty face, ain’t you?”

A laugh you didn’t know you had in you finds its way out. Gabriel’s smile grows, shining just under the rim of his hat. He switched the light on as he joined you, hands on his hips as he looked around the room.

It was cozy and compact with the kitchen mere steps away from the living room you walked into. Sunlight coated the room with stripes through the barely open blinds and a “Home Is Where The Heart Is” sign stood out on the wall next to the entrance.

The colors were similar to the exterior, blues and browns with a splash of white.

“I do hope you can come to love it here. I know it’s not much, but whatever you need, I’ll do what I can to help you out.”

“Thank you so much. This was actually a lot more than I was expecting, honestly. The ad was a little ambiguous.”

“What’s life without a little fun?”

“A boring one according to you. I do have more stuff all the way back at the gate that I should get to before it’s seen as garbage.”

“Oh, you stop that,” Gabriel says, blocking your exit. “I’ll get my guys to bring it in later. You go ahead and get settled and I’ll check out your ACs before I leave you. You’ll need it.”

He stomped his shoes a bit then switched on the living room box. The stuffiness of the air lifted and the cool breeze and hum of the AC unit took over. He turns the corner and you open the blinds next to the couch, opening up the room even more.

Ten seconds and a blink later you hear a scream so high, you think one of the goats may have found its way into the home.

Running after the sound, you park behind Gabriel to see what caused the commotion.

In the bedroom with the light skirting around the curtains stood a tall creature with a head of flying fur. It had antennas that moved at a steady rhythm and a bend that felt irregular, strange to the eye.

Gabriel was leaning on the doorway, hands slapping against the wallpaper with short breath.

When he flipped the lights you gasp as the biggest, sleekest cat you’ve ever seen stands on its hind legs and kneads the air. Its eyes are a bright green, standing out against its jet-black fur as it stares at you unamused.

“Gabbie!” Gabriel shouts, moving to bend and breathe a sigh of relief. “Baby girl, don’t do that. You know my heart can’t take it.”

A little girl ducks out from behind the cat’s head with a toothy smile and a pocket of giggles in her chest. She lets her cat down who only weaves between her legs, nearly knocking her over. Her hair is wild, thick dark brown fly-aways escaping what you think is a ponytail.

“Daddy said when you say that, it only means that you’re actually scared!”

“Your daddy don’t know whether to scratch his watch or check his ass. Don’t listen to him.”

“Are you here to help on the farm?” she asks you.

“Why yes I am-”

“Baby girl, you know that’s not how you greet people. Get it right,” Gabriel chides.

She huffs, hair bouncing as she looks down at her feet. Her hands go behind her back, embarrassed.

“‘M sorry, ma’am,” she mumbles, thick eyebrows furrowed.

Her cat sits in front of her and meows low, body stretching up to place its paws on her shoulders. It started to rub against her face, purring loud and content.

Your heart tugged at the scene. It reminded you of yourself, getting fussed at for the smallest things.

Walking next to her, you squat to match her level.

“It’s ok, sweetie. You didn’t mean me any harm,” you place your hands in your lap as you look at her.

Her cheeks are full and her eyelashes are long. There’s a bandaid on her chin and from here you can see that her hair is stretched and curly, barely contained in a scrunchie trying to hold it all together. If she hadn’t confirmed it already, you would think she’s Gabriel’s daughter, a mole under her bottom lip matching the one on his jaw, but those eyebrows were reminiscent of the man from before.

“Tell you what, I’ll tell you my name, and you can tell me you and your kitty’s names. Deal?”

“Deal!”

You learn that her name is Gabriella and her cat is a Maine Coon named Jade, like the Bratz doll.

“Because his eyes are green like her’s! And he’s a cool cat. Did you know that ‘Kool Kat’ is Jade’s nickname?”

“I wouldn’t be a girl with a passion for fashion if I didn’t.”

She giggles, sienna eyes sparkling as she claps her hands.

“Want to see my dolls? We can play dress-up. And have a party! Oh, oh! I have tiaras for me and my cats. You can borrow one!”

“Gabbie.”

“I can push you on the swing and introduce you to the baby cows and ride the four-wheeler.”

“Baby girl.”

“And we can do parties! My birthday already passed, though. I’m 8! How old are you?”

“Gabriella,” Gabriel says louder. His hands are on his hips as he gives her a knowing look. “I know you hear me calling you. And you never ask a lady her age. That’s rude, baby girl.”

She pouts again and nods, picking up her cat from under its armpits. Jade sticks his tongue out and starts kneading once more.

“Now go run off and play. She needs to start her work, ok? If you do right, maybe she’ll play with you later.”

“Ok, Tío.”

Gabriel turns and leaves the room but before Gabriella can get too far, you tap her shoulder and urge her back with a finger. You cup your hands over your mouth and that glow is back in her eyes.

“28,” you whisper in her ear.

She leans back and smiles against the top of her cat’s head.

“You really are a princess,” she whispers back. She shuffles off before Gabriel can fuss again and you follow.

He guides her through the entryway, watching through the screen door as she and Jade run back to the main house.

“Sorry about that. I think she snuck in here while we were getting it ready.”

“It’s fine. She’s a cutie pie. I don’t mind at all.”

“Yeah, that she is,” he sighed. “One look at that face and you’re a goner.”

Looking at him, you could tell that those words were accurate. He couldn’t even hold his authority for too long.

“Did Miguel have something for you to do? I wanted to get Gabbie out of your hair, but there’s no telling what he has planned. He’s been running all over the ranch like a chicken with his head cut off.”

“Who?”

Gabriel snickered and looked to the side.

“I know it’s hot but don’t go forgetting stuff on me so soon, honey.”

“No, I, I really don’t know who Miguel is. Was that the first man I saw? Tall? Long hair? Wouldn’t look me in the eye?”

Gabriel’s head dipped as he slumped against the door.

“O’Hara’s. A line full of knuckleheads, I tell you,” he mumbles. “C’mon.”

“Even without a watch, I’m sure that you know it’s been more than five minutes.”

You rub a wrist over your temple, swiping away sweat. Gabriel clicks his teeth next to you.

“Look, if this is how you’re going to act with basic tasks, you won’t make it far here.”

“Really?” Gabriel answers for you.

Miguel turns, letting go of the stall he was unlocking.

“Thought you had business to tend to.”

“And I expected you to show some respect, so I guess we’re both up the creek without a paddle.”

“What do you want, Gabriel?”

“For starters, you should apologize to this lovely woman.”

“Apologize for what?”

“For being a jackass. We finally get some help around here and you can’t even muster up a smile on that square head of yours.”

“The same square head that your mama blessed you with?”

“The same one that I’m about to knock up against the barrels if you don’t quit it.”

Miguel smirked and started to roll up his sleeves. Your eyes zero in on his thick, sturdy arms decorated with hair. His muscles flex as his fingers fiddle with a button on his cuff.

“I’d like to see you try. You can barely stand straight right now.”

Gabriel takes his hat off and places it over a lasso hook, then cracks his neck. Your stomach lurches and you can’t tell if it’s because your brain has deluded you into thinking that they’re fighting over you, or if you’re actually nervous about two men well over six feet about to roll around in dirt.

As Miguel loses his hat and his hair falls to frame his face, you think the first option sounds more pleasing.

You back up as quietly as you can, the two of them shouting curses at each other so loudly that they don’t even notice your movements.

“I can’t believe you want this nice lady to see you on your ass.”

“And I can’t believe you still don’t know when to mind your own.”

“Your own is my own,” Gabriel bites back.

A crunch behind you grabs your attention.

Jade looks up at you, one eye scrunched as he munches on a bug. A tiny, sparkly pink cowboy hat adorns his head. Looking further, Gabriella looks up at you with big brown eyes.

The boys were only getting louder.

“Excuse me,” you interrupt them. “As much as this is entertaining me, little ears are listening.”

You point to the entrance where Gabriella is doing the worst job of hiding. Her fingers stand out against the white opening and Jade’s tail stands tall and curved. He makes a stunted meow as the attention falls on him.

In a heartbeat, their demeanors change. Balled up fists loosen and shirts unravel. They both drop to the ground, Gabriel struggling, and beckon her closer.

For once, Miguel looks softer, at ease.

“Hey, sunshine,”

Gabriella walks fast to get to him, hands fiddling together. Once she’s in his arms, he cradles her, kissing her cheek softly.

“Were you and Tío Gabri fighting?”

“No, no baby girl. We weren’t fighting.”

“Yeah, we were just talking,” Gabriel agrees, smoothing back her hair that shoots right back up afterward. “Just some brotherly love, is all.”

“Then why is your shirt all messed up?”

She points to Gabriel’s stretched collar and picks at a loose button on Miguel’s.

“One of the horses might have gotten a hold of it.”

“Yeah, Tío’s right, Bubba was a little late with feeding time today. Magenta might have gotten hungry.”

Gabriella twists her lip.

“T��o, you know Magenta doesn’t like boys! What if she ate you up?”

Gabriel laughs before he can even think of a response, eyes warm as he takes in the seriousness of his niece’s face. With her eyebrows pinched like that, she was the spitting image of her father, scowl and all.

“Well, thank God you’re here to rescue me. Your daddy was no help at all.”

“If Magenta can’t stand you, what makes you think she wants to see me?”

Gabriel sneered at Miguel who only shrugged back.

“What were you hiding for anyway, Gabbie? I thought I told you to go play.”

She stares at her fingers, chin tucked away into her chest. Miguel rubs her arm, silently encouraging her, while Gabriel tilts his head and waits.

“I,” her eyes glance at you then back down. “I just wanted to see her again.”

When Gabriella says your name, it’s like everything sparkles around her. Like there’s bubbles and glitter in the air.

Miguel rolled your name on his tongue. He took you in and looked at you with more than just disdain underlining his skin.

Getting up without letting his daughter go, then helping Gabriel off the ground, he acknowledges you.

“Can you ride a horse?”

Your tongue slides over your teeth in your mouth. It’s not missed on you the way he watches you shift your weight, eyes calculating and stern.

“No. No, I can’t.”

Miguel looks at Gabriel out of the corner of his eye.

“That’s completely fine. Not nothing none of us can’t teach you,” Gabriel supplies.

“I could teach you!” Gabriella perks up, body jerking in her father’s hold, but his body remains still.

You smile at her in thanks as Gabriel continues.

“Have you ever milked a cow? A goat?”

“Once,” Gabriel looks hopeful and Miguel’s eyebrow raises. “At a museum. It was a simulation.”

“Hear that Gabri? They’re doing simulations for cows now.”

“Can you,” Gabriel ignored his brother completely, “plant something in the soil?”

“Absolutely. My mama has a garden and I planted things with my grandma before.”

Gabriel lights up as he turns and hits Miguel on the shoulder with glee.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your last plant died. Nor that the last time you were helping your grandma was when you were three years old and completely in her way.

“So you can operate a shovel?”

“Yes, I can do that much.”

“Great,” Miguel says. “I know the perfect task for you.”

Excited, you thought nothing of the calmness in Miguel’s voice. His tone and drawl mixed with Gabriel’s sweetness were like a lullaby sinking you slowly to the ground.

Right about now, you’d say the wrong ground got a hold of you.

Grunting, you stick a scoop shovel under the pile of shit in the corner of the stall.

It was gunky and rancid. For such a tiny area, there was so much of it piled high. You mourned the complete loss of your trusty shoes as you practically slid over it to gather up more.

“You know, cow manure is actually something that we farmers just can’t get enough of,” Gabriel stands by what you deemed the shit-truck. “It helps us so much. Keeps those crops coming.”

“So why isn’t said Farmer One and Two shoveling it with me?”

Surprisingly, nothing splashes out with the way you bang your shovel against the truck bedding.

Miguel was off somewhere. Probably thinking you weren’t cut out for this.

“Oh honey, this is looking like the same shit I picked up yesterday morning. This truck hadn’t even hit the road yet. ”

You stick your shovel in the ground and cross your forearms over the handle. Gabriel looks at you apologetically, but the chuckle in him doesn’t stay contained.

Miguel was a jackass.

“The cows don’t even mess up where they sleep this bad no way,” he continued. “I was so busy getting your house ready and fixing up things for the rodeo, I was able to move this out the way for composting.”

There was a rodeo to prepare for and yet Miguel still found time to give useless, stinky, busy work.

Not only was he a jackass, he was a dickhead, too.

You get back to work, choosing to imagine that you were throwing manure across Miguel’s face rather than getting mad at the flies whose home you were destroying.

Gabriel stays. Whether it’s for moral support or to laugh at your agony, you’re not sure, but his commentary cools you down.

As the last school of gunk hits the large pile in the bed, you really think you could muster up enough energy to strangle your boss. You could barely see through to the front of the truck.

“Thank you kindly,” Gabriel taps the bunk. “I don’t really like Miguel’s methods of…”

“Hazing? Torture? Deceit?”

“…testing,” he finishes. “But, if anything, you showed me you’re willing and ready to work. It’s a lot more than this last, what, ten? Twelve or so ‘ranch hands’ have done in the first weeks.”

You relax a bit, “So, I’ve got the job?”

“Had it when you told Miguel off at the paddock.”

He pats your shoulder as he shuffles to the driver’s seat.

“Go rest up. We got a busy day tomorrow and you start to smell like you’re the one that dealt it whenever you deal with manure.”

Grimacing, you nod in agreement. Your blouse would be better off in a garbage chute at this point.

Gabriel hikes himself in the driver’s seat and yells out before he leaves.

“Be out here at 7 AM sharp tomorrow! Don’t be late or it’ll be worse things to do than this. Left you some dinner on the table and some food in the fridge. We’ll handle shopping later.”

The truck moves and you panic, watching the pile fall into itself. Gabriel is driving far too fast.

Once he becomes more of a pebble in the distance and the sun is starting to hide behind he trees, you take a sniff at your clothes and gag.

You’re not sure if the world's strongest detergent and chlorine gas could get the smell out, but you know that from today, you were going to either prove Miguel wrong or die trying not to kill him.

After a shower, a deep cleanse to your scalp, a refresh to your braids, and a face mask, you finally go to the kitchen to see what Gabriel left you.

Thank you for signing up for this job! I know it’s hard labor, but the beauty of the result and the countryside make it all worth it.

I knew you’d make a great addition to The Huntsman Farms from our emails and I was happy to see that my gut was right.

For your hard work:

Fresh hot tamales made by my wife!

There’s a steamer on the stove to heat them up, but in case you’re prone to fires like me, just pop em in the microwave.

Enjoy and see you bright and early tomorrow!

P.S. - There’s some lemonade in the fridge too!

“A wife?”

You were too busy gawking at his face, you didn’t even think to check his hand. Of course, a man like that would be tied down.

Sighing, you open the microwave and start to wrap two tamales in damp paper towels. Your eyes were heavy and you might actually start a fire somehow if you turned the stove on.

While your food heats up, you pour a glass of lemonade and take a sip. It’s not too sweet, not too tart, and probably fresh.

When everything was ready, you sat at the small dining room table and unwrapped the husk.

One bite had you scrunching your face in anger and flipping Gabriel’s letter, searching for a description.

Fragrant tomatillo and green peppers, chicken bursting with flavor, and it was only just one bite.

You think there was another with pork and red sauce calling your name.

“She can cook and she has a great man, how lucky.”

You catch some scribbles on the back of the notebook paper and you straighten it out.

Smiling at her princess greeting for you and her best attempt at spelling your name, you read her words.

Welcome to the farm! I hope we can play together soon!

And I’ll teach you how to ride a horse! You can ride my horse! Her name is Flora! Like the fairy!

And I like your hair! It’s so pretty!

♡ Gabriella ♡

You pout your lip taking in her sweet message. Such a darling came from Miguel, a complete menace.

A tall, dark, and handsome one, sure. And strong. Hefty. It all falls through once your brain registers his words and not his drawl. He’s rude as all get out with the attitude of a donkey.

Despite that, as the night winds down and your head hits the pillow you wondered if you had made the right choice.

It was hot. It was stressful. It was far away from most things.

But, your thoughts kept running back to the little girl with wild hair and adorable smile.

For her, you think you’ll stay a while.

dividers by ⋆⋆⋆ saradika + rookthornesartistry 💚

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