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Brad closed the truck door, brushed the crumbs of his dinner off of his shirt, and surveyed the underwhelming exterior of Uncle Bob’s Amish Motel. It was a long, low, red brick structure that looked as if was a remodeled ‘60s restaurant.
He sighed, locked the truck door, and went in.
The teenaged girl behind the counter was chewing gum and listening to an mp3. She brightened when he walked in, and pulled the earphones out.
“Hi, can I help you?” she smiled.
Brad dug out his wallet. “Yeah, I’d like a single room for three nights.” He opened up the slender billfold and looked down at it despondently. “The chea— the most economical room available.”
The girl dimpled at him, and consulted her computer screen. “I have a single room available for $50 a night, but it’s next to the laundry room, and it may be noisy sometimes. Is that okay?”
“That’s perfect. You have wi-fi, right?”
“Oh, yes.”
He pushed a card across the counter, and her hand brushed his as she took it. She giggled and tossed her head slightly.
Brad glanced around. The lobby was spare, but looked clean, and the room beyond was, apparently, a very basic dining room. He tilted his head to the right. “Is breakfast included in the price of a room?”
“You get a Continental breakfast: coffee, juice, fruit and danish,” she recited.
“That’s great.”
She handed him a receipt and a room key. “Your room is on the right, past the dining room. First turn to the left, and the fifth door on the left.”
“Thanks.”
“If you need anything, just call me,” she sang out.
He smiled faintly, and waved.
When he opened the door to Room 205, he was greeted by the loud hum of an air conditioner, a blast of cold, and an aggressive floral scent that was certainly cheap air freshener. There was a single bed, neatly made, a desk with a chair, and a bathroom.
He walked to the desk and set up his laptop then pulled the curtains open with a snap. He was startled to see a black cow looking back at him. It stood there, eyeing him patiently, over the fence that separated the motel from the neighboring farm.
He unlocked the window and threw it open, and nodded to the cow. “Howdy there, bossy,” he told it. “Got time for a few questions?”
The cow turned her head and looked off into the distance.
He nodded. “What is it with people around here, hmm? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were being unfriendly.”
He plopped down on the bed, put his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling.
Now that he had Delores’s okay, the next step in his plan was to find a way to persuade that curvy redheaded girl to get the letter appraised.
He’d been so preoccupied with winning Delores over that he hadn’t had time to think of much else, but he had to admit, the prospect of seeing that girl again was a distinctly pleasant one—quite apart from the story.
Of course, getting her alone wasn’t going to be easy.
He called her up again in his mind. Her eyes were the lightest, most startling green he’d ever seen. They were as big and beautiful as a cat’s, ringed with thick black lashes, and slightly almond-shaped.
They stood out like – he couldn’t think of the right words—like green jewels on white satin.
He caught himself, and his mouth curled down. He was waxing poetic.
But still.
And the look in them had been so... soft. Gentle, that was the word.
He fumbled in his shirt pocket, and this time, there was a pack of cigarettes in it. He lighted one, and puffed contemplatively.
Yes, she was a beauty, all right.
Her dress seemed designed to cover up her figure – that Amish prudishness – but even so, it couldn’t completely hide the fact that she was young, lissome, and graceful.
He blew a spout of smoke toward the ceiling.
But also, extremely shy. And guarded by an angry giant who he assumed to be her father.
The memory of the man’s expression gave him real pause. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that if that guy caught him out there talking to his daughter, he was going to need his insurance plan.
But still, her father couldn’t stay with her all the time. There had to be some window of opportunity, and he was determined to find it.
He frowned.
It was a beautiful place, that farm. Just setting aside what had happened there, or even that an uber-hot girl lived in it. It looked peaceful. Well-ordered.
And it was clear that the girl had a parent who was there all the time, and willing to protect her.
His face twisted. Sweet setup. Something like that would’ve been nice when he was a kid.
He crushed the cigarette butt into an ashtray.
If he could just find some way to get to that girl, to get her alone, he had a shot. She looked as if she’d be fairly pliable. If he could convince her that the letter might bring a lot of money, and that he’d pay the fee for the appraisal, she might agree.
The appraisal. He pulled his hands over his face. It was going to cost hundreds of dollars, money he didn’t have.
But it was a risk he was willing to take.
Because if the letter proved to be real, it would make his name famous overnight and then maybe he could start getting the real assignments, and leave the boonies behind forever.
Wouldn’t do that girl any harm, either.
Maybe then she’d be able to afford to see the real world, and get a life of her own.
