Georgia-Blue & Hudson (Stoney Creek #5)

Chapter 2

2

Hudson

I can hear my dad’s voice out front as the girls arrive.

I’ve had all morning to get ready but I’ve left shit until the last minute.

I spray on some Brut deodorant to match my aftershave. I’ve always liked the scent of Brut; it’s fresh and clean, with hints of vanilla, spice and musk. I don’t know why but it reminds me of the Smoky woods when I’d go on camping trips with my dad. The thought pulls a half-smile to my lips because we haven’t done that in a while.

I give myself a once over in the mirror, deciding that I look presentable enough, and walk out of my ensuite into my bedroom.

“Top of the morning,” I hear Dad call out to the girls as I shrug into my long sleeve Henley.

I mean, I assume it’s Georgia and Autumn, it’s not like we get a lot of visitors out here on the farm.

I do up my fly and fix my belt, grabbing my cowboy hat before I head outside. I grin to myself as I imagine Georgia-Blue’s perky little smile because she always has a smile for my dad, Huck. For me, not so much.

He’s a good guy, so I can’t blame her there. My mom always said he was the bread to her butter. The memory of that hits me where it hurts, because I haven’t heard it in so long.

Dad wanted me on the farm and we butted heads. We didn’t get along. Then everything changed.

I do my best to push it aside as I scoop up Moses, my gray Ragdoll, and give him a scratch under his chin as I walk down the hallway to the front door. Moses is a pretty cool cat and likes to just flop around wherever the desire takes him.

“Daddy’s gotta head out,” I tell him. He spares me an unenthusiastic, withering glance. He loves me, really. I mean, he wouldn’t bunch up near my head when I sleep if he didn’t, or rub against my leg to show his affection. He’s seen me through some rough times in my life and given me comfort that no human has been able to. That’s partly my fault because I don’t let people in very often. Maybe I’m just getting cynical in my ripe old age of thirty-eight.

It’s possible.

I place him back down on the wood floor where he flops over in the small ray of sunlight coming through the side window, stretching his long legs out for good measure.

Hard life.

I fix my cowboy hat on my head, and with a deep sigh, I step out onto the porch.

With GB, you just never know what to expect. I mean, she’s consistent with being a pain in my ass one hundred percent of the time whenever we see one another, and we’re good at bickering. With us, I think it’s that little sister, brother’s best friend thing. I’ve known her since she was born.

One of her favorite things to do is poke the bear. Especially when it comes to my infamous winning streak down at Moose’s bar; I proudly own the title, and the town record, for riding The Raging Moose. She’s always threatening to rival me; she thinks she can stay on The Raging Moose long enough to knock me off my perch, but it’s yet to happen. She’s all hot air, and we both know it.

Since I used to be a bull rider, I know how to hang on.

“Ladies.” I step out and tip my hat just as my dad leads them up to the porch. I take a glance at the women before me. Autumn is a sweetheart in her own right; long-legged with an olive complexion and a bright smile. Whereas Georgia is small — tiny compared to me — with hair as dark as the inked sky Stoney Creek offers up right on twilight. Her eyes are as blue as the cornflowers that grow rampant on our property in the summer months, though I try not to notice that. Her lengthy, dark lashes frame those eyes perfectly.

“Hey, Hudson.” Autumn greets me, stepping in for a quick hug.

“Married life suits you, sweetheart,” I laugh, glancing down at her. “How was Mexico?”

“Perfect,” she gushes. “I highly recommend a vacation.”

“She sounds just like Beau.” Georgia gives me a playful wink.

I give her a chin lift. “Don’t I get a friendly hug?” I tilt my head, teasing her. I think the last time I hugged Georgia-Blue was at her graduation, and that was years ago.

She purses her lips and rolls her eyes toward my dad who’s chuckling behind her.

“It would be kind of awkward now that you’ve said it,” she says.

“A high five then?”

She pretends to punch me in the guts instead and I grab her hand, pulling her toward my chest where I wrap one arm around her in an awkward pound hug. “See, wasn’t that hard.” Knowing she hates it only makes me laugh harder.

She glances up at me with a curious blink for half a second, her cheeks slightly flushed, and that only amuses me more.

“Why don’t you girls come in and grab some sweet tea or a coffee before you get to it?” Dad says. “It’s not often we get such pretty women around here.”

Way to go, Dad. I quirk my brow at him. Just awesome. I know I’ve had a bit of a dry spell lately, but we don’t have to sky write it.

Georgia gives Dad a little nudge in the ribs as he opens the porch door and gestures for the girls to come inside. So much for a quick hello and getting back out to work. We’ve been harvesting since summer started and we’re not even halfway through the season, it will continue right through into fall. Our massive green harvester sitting out in the field waits for no one, not even Precious Princesses.

“Now, that’s a sweet compliment if I ever heard one,” I hear Georgia say as I follow behind them back into the house. “You should try it sometime, Huds.”

And she’s off and racing just like that.

I shake my head. “I gave you a well-rounded compliment just this morning, if you care to scroll back on our texts.”

“Well rounded?” Georgia raises her eyebrows at me from the floor where she’s giving Moses a good old belly scratch.

Autumn laughs under her breath as I close the porch door.

“What would you like to drink?” Dad asks, ignoring me as Georgia continues to pet Moses. He loves female attention and GB is no exception. In fact, I’d go as far to say he favors her. “We have everything from homemade lemonade, sweet tea to freshly roasted coffee.”

I can’t help but smirk to myself. Dad loves to be the perfect host, even at my place, and looks after whoever comes knocking on our door. Admittedly, there haven't been many people over lately, as Dad pointed out.

Dad lives in the back cottage that he and Mom rebuilt a few years back. I have the smaller original workers’ cottage at the front. My mom died almost two years ago from an aggressive form of cancer. It shook the entire family and everyone in Stoney Creek. She was loved by everyone and a true mother hen. Dad and I have grown closer over the last few years more than ever.I moved back here after my bull riding career took a sudden turn when I was injured.

It’s a tough sport and it took me a lot of places. I missed it a lot in the beginning. I think the hardest part is having to bow out when you’re at the peak in your chosen career. It wasn’t by choice, and that’s what tore me up the most. But it is what it is, and with a few years under my belt back home on my parents’ farm, I’ve learned to deal with it.

I keep a cabin up in Slate Mountain, a few hours east of here, where I spent the first six months after I left Nashville and broke up with my girlfriend. I needed a break from the world and most of the people in it. I love it out there. It’s peaceful, with nothing but scenery for miles.

I was always going to come home to Stoney Creek someday to take over the farm; it just happened quicker than I thought. Not that my parents ever pushed it on me, but I’ve grown up in and around the cotton fields, and other than the rodeo, it’s all I really know.

It’s also what I’m insanely good at. I love being outdoors and in nature, so it’s never felt like a chore, even if it is hard work and long days. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else now, but it’s been a long road for me to see things a different way and that everything happens for a reason. If I hadn’t been forced to quit the rodeo, I wouldn’t have been home as often as I was leading up to my mom getting really sick. So for that, I’m grateful.

It has made me appreciate the simple things in life a whole lot more. When I get up each morning to face the fields before me, the clear blue sky, and the air as fresh as the day is long, I get that sense of peace that I never had living my rodeo life.

Most people don’t know it about me, but I truly appreciate all the seasons Tennessee has to offer and I try to notice all the little things around me as those seasons change.

“A coffee would be great,” Georgia says, breaking my reverie. “If Huds is making, extra foam would be fantastic.”

I give her a look. “Don’t count on it, sweetheart.”

“I’d love a coffee too,” Autumn pipes up. “Normal foam is fine for me.”

Dad chuckles away, shaking his head.

“I see you didn’t get your extra hit of espresso this morning,” Georgia says, as she finally stands from stroking my cat and walks with me into my small kitchen. While it has been freshly renovated by yours truly, the original structure is over a hundred years old and has been in the family for generations. I love the high ceiling beams the most, and the original hardwood floors that me and my dad sanded back by hand and varnished twice over. We bonded over it after my mom’s illness, giving us an escape when it all got too much. We were at a crossroads for a very long time. I’m glad we put our differences aside to care for Mom, and Dad has mellowed ten-fold over the years.

The freshly painted walls give it that new house smell, with the earthy and nutty scents of the linseed oil permeating in the air.

“I had my hit of espresso just fine,” I tell her.

“Geez, you smell good,” she murmurs, wiggling her nose at me.

I bristle a little at her words because they come out of nowhere. Okay. Not what I was expecting. “Don’t I usually?” I cock a brow.

Her eyes narrow just a fraction. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I’d kinda forgotten.”

I palm the back of my head. “It’s been a busy summer.” I know she understands that feeling. Gray keeps me up to date on the family fun going on around their place.

I help out a lot over at the distillery when they need me to, moreover when we’re not harvesting. I gave Callan a hand in getting their huge old barn ready for their first wedding season since GB and her mom, Gayle, had the idea to restore it to its former glory. They now rent the place out for functions and events. They’ve had wedding after wedding this spring and summer. From what I’ve heard, it’s spilling into autumn as well, before things slow down for the winter time and everyone will have a well earned break.

“Tell me about it,” she says. “I’m taking a vacation soon, anyway.”

I make my way over to the coffee machine as Dad tells the girls to get acquainted at the island bench which overlooks my small, but neat, white kitchen. It’s modest with shaker cabinets and the same wood floors that run through the whole house. “Where to?” I ask.

Georgia never really goes anywhere — maybe Nashville with her mom and best friend, Celeste, and cousin, Trudy — but vacation? Unheard of.

Autumn places her camera bag down on the bench but Georgia doesn’t answer. She’s staring at something on the fridge.

“Earth to Precious Princess,” I holler through cupped hands.

Dad is setting up the cups as I walk back over to see what’s captivated Georgia’s attention.

She’s staring up at the wedding invite I got months back for a friend of mine, James Harding. He was a Stoney Creek native years back, but lives in Florida now with the girl he met here, Elizabeth Hewitt. And they’re getting married in exactly four weeks.

She grabs the invitation right from under the fridge magnet and waves it in my face.

“You got one of these, too?”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean, too ?”

She looks down at it, pouring over the contents as her eyes dart over the words:

Dear Hudson her eyes widen in surprise. It’s a split second but I still notice. I give GB my cockiest of grins. “Who are you taking?”

“Mind your business.” She throws my words back at me, tapping her nose like it’s the world's biggest secret.

I’m pretty certain she’s bluffing, but you never know with Georgia. “You been cleansing those crystals under the full moon again?” I chuckle.

She throws me daggers behind my dad’s back. “I’ll have you know my crystals do get cleansed under the full moon, and they have great healing properties among other things.”

“Is that so?” I lean with a hand on my hip.

“It is so.”

“What crystal would you suggest for someone like me?”

She places the wedding invitation back on the fridge, lining up the magnets on the corners perfectly. My mouth twitches, fighting a smile. She didn’t get the name Precious Princess for nothing. She turns back to me, holding her chin between her thumb and forefinger, her eyes skating down my body.

I try not to squirm under her scrutiny.

“Maybe a black obsidian or a tourmaline maybe.”

“What about a shungite?” Autumn waggles her eyebrows over the counter.

I shake my head and walk over to the coffee machine to assist Dad, but he seems to have it all under control. “Not you, too.”

“I’ve been hanging around Georgia too long.” She shrugs.

“Why a black crystal?” I ask GB. “Are you gonna tell me it’s the color of my soul?”

She straightens and walks around to slide onto the bar stool next to Autumn. “Ha-ha. Little do you know shungite absorbs any vibes that can be a little, uh … off .”

I swipe a hand down my face. “Off?”

“Well, negative energy. That kind of thing. It protects you, too.”

“What in the hell do I need protection from? Aside from a little five foot nothing trying to fill my head with garbage.”

“I knew I should have brought my smudge stick,” GB mutters.

I cock a brow. “Not that weird smelling shit you wave around everywhere?”

“I heard paulo santo can be very cleansing,” Dad offers as he loads the coffee into the machine after frothing the milk.

“Don’t you start, Dad. Five seconds here and she’s already filling your head with her woo-woo.”

“You sound like my brothers,” Georgia moans.

I treat her to a wide-assed grin over the counter. “Now, how could that be a bad thing, GB?”

She gives me a withering look that I choose to ignore.

Now we’re gonna be in Florida together? Give me a break.

She’s not taking a date. Not that she can’t get one. She’s the most eligible bachelorette in town. I’d know if she was seeing someone. Stoney Creek is a small place where everyone knows everyone’s business.

I’d be privy to that kind of information, surely?

Then again, I did just lie about me taking a date to save face. The real question is, why?