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Applewood Fields (kaigen & MetalMelissa)

Joined
Jan 20, 2017
With the rising of the sun over Applewood Fields there came a new dawn and a new day, and for Lauren Smith, the same old tired life. August was never a time for her to rest on her laurels or dream of what could have been, however, for August brought the beginning of apple season. At Applewood, that meant a shifting of attention from the farm to the orchard, and this year Lauren had high hopes for the company's produce. The past eighteen months or so had seen the buxom blonde take on a greater role in the running of both the farm and the orchard, and judging from the latest quarterly projection, business was firmly on the up and up. Lauren's husband John, owner of Applewood since the death of his mother Ann-Marie seven years ago, had almost run the business into the ground with his growing indifference to profit and to life in general, but his wife was proving herself more than capable of running the business for him. If nothing else, it provided her with a sense of satisfaction that John had long given up on providing her with.

On this day she rose at six thirty, showered and dressed, and made her way downstairs to prepare breakfast. At thirty-four years of age, Lauren cast a striking figure in a loose white blouse and tight denim cut-offs that ended just beneath the gentle curve of her plump behind. Her skin was lightly bronzed from the summer months just past, and her luxuriant blonde hair hung down over her shoulders in gentle waves, here cascading down her back, there framing her sizeable cleavage where it was bared by two open buttons at the top of her blouse. She was pretty too, possessed of a lightly freckled nose between bright blue eyes, and narrow lips that were quick to curl into a slightly crooked smile. As a child she had dreamed of being a country music singer, but all of that changed after one frivolous night of carnal indulgence. She became pregnant at sixteen, a mother at seventeen, and by nineteen was married to a different man than the one who had begot her with child. It was years later when she discovered that that man was incapable of providing her with more children, though his mother at least provided her with a profitable business.

Ann-Marie Smith had been a very astute businesswoman, and her husband had given her a good name for apples. Her son John, on the other hand, had been a high school football player with aspirations of playing in the National Football League until he blew his knee out in the spring of his senior year. If that had grounded him as a person, the damage it did extended beyond his body and his dreams: John was now a forty year old man with zero ambition, and a penchant for spending his weekends in this or that local bar pounding whiskeys. He could work the farm all right, but were it not for his wife there may well not have been a farm to work.

Of the numerous recent changes that Lauren had introduced, the most successful had been the employment of transient volunteers whose labour she compensated with food and board. The majority of these workers came to her through the Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms organisation, or WWOOF. Still others came by word of mouth, or answered adverts posted in the town of Silverton, a mere ten minutes drive away. The months of August and September saw the greatest demand for labourers, though of course the greatest supply was available in the summer months, when many a student opted to spend his or her summer travelling from farm to farm and taking in the sights and sounds of new cities and rural localities.

Now, at the first dawn of August, four such workers remained: Tammy Birtwhistle and Alan Purcell were a bright, sociable couple from England who had stayed the majority of the summer with the Smiths, and who would return home at the end of the month to prepare for their final year of university; Juan Ortega was an Argentinian-Mexican American from just outside of Houston, who on occasion would break out an acoustic guitar and lead a rendition of David Allan Coe's Tennessee Whiskey, or Lead Belly's Cotton Fields to name a couple; most recently employed was a quiet drifter by the name of Eric, of whom Lauren knew very little. He was a curious fellow, possessing a camper van and a customised motorcycle that Juan was somewhat enamoured with, and as such he had no need to make use of the accommodation offered to Applewood's other volunteers.

Lauren's new employment scheme proved such a success that she and her husband no longer needed to employ much in the way of permanent staff. The only two that remained outside the Smith family were a pair of burly brothers from Silverton named Donny and Ronny Drake. Neither of them were particularly bright, but they were good workers, and amiable to boot. The Smiths worked alongside them more often than not, though now that August had arrived, husband and wife would divide their duties between the farm and the orchard. The former would be manned at all times by John and the Drake brothers. Lauren and the volunteers would still work some days on the farm, but for the most part they would she would lead them around the orchard picking and collecting apples by hand before transporting the ripe ones for storage.​
 
Eric's upbringing bore a stark contrast to most of the people he had met on his travels. Even more so since he began to travel to the more rural parts of the country. Several years prior the tall drifter learned he had an inate talent. Farming and gardening seemed to come naturally. Or more naturally than the other skills he'd acquired during his travels. And it was one that afforded him the luxury of not paying for a room or meals. Or rather, in this case, a power and septic hookup for his modest camper. While he did not recieve an actual paycheck for his labor, he long ago learned other extra-legal ways of earning enough cash for the few pleasantries he enjoyed.

Promptly at a quarter to seven he woke, showered and dressed in his usual worn pair of loose fitting bluejeans thst hung low on his hips and a simple black "Harley" t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off. Finally after pulling on his square toed work boots and attaching the chain that hung off his wallet to a belt loop he left the confines of his home on wheels and entered the main house. Immediatly upon entering the scent of morning breakfast assaulted his nose. It appeared to be the usual fare, one Eric always enjoyed greatly. Long and tall, taller than either of the Drake brothers but more slightly built, he strode into the kitchen and helped himself to a cup of coffee. Then quietly sat at the table.

Eric was not an unattractive man. But he certainly was no male model. Thick tufts of wavy black hair covered his head and several days of beard growth seemed to perpitually cover his face. His bright green eyes shown bright. But within those eyes he held the look of a man that had lived far more and seen life from a perspective most by the age of twenty five would never see.

Having been on his own for much of the last decade and a half, places like Applewood Fields was a haven to him. And while he knew it would not last forever he was warm and dry at night, and his belly was always full. And so he did well to keep his wandering green orbs from falling on Mrs. Smith's curvaceous form. And though he greatly appreciated her manner of dress he wanted to stay in this place as long as possible. And so he did well to only look when no one else was.

Once breakfast was laid out before them Eric finally spoke. Quiet by nature he only spoke when he really had something to say. Which was not often. Spending his formative years on the streets taught him that. It taught him that the only safe space was within his own mind. "I noticed yesterday that the trees in the southern orchard are aging a bit. Are ya gonna replace em anytime soon?" Eric learned from a previous orchard at which he worked, thst while apple trees could live for several hundred years, more often about a hundred years, their yeild would start to decline long before they finally died on their own. And thst aging could accelerate from poor care. Which seemed to be the case in recent years.
 
Lauren nodded, and a wry smile drew across her narrow lips.

"One of the many things I have to fix around here, Eric," she quipped, uncapping a carton of orange juice with lightly calloused fingers, and pouring herself a half-glass. By necessity, she kept her fingernails short, and rarely an evening came where they weren't grubby from a hard day's work. At present, however, they were as freshly washed as the rest of her sultry figure, and her flaxen locks bore the refreshing scent of citrus fruit shampoo.

"Well if you weren't kept busy you'd only be annoying me," John joked from across the table, flashing a grin first at his wife and then at Eric. He was a jovial enough sort of man, though away from the eyes of the employees he was susceptible to mild, yet sudden mood swings. A general dissatisfaction with life was deeply ingrained in him, and it often left him irritable, and with a longing to escape the repetitive grind of daily life. "Am I right or am I right, Alan?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know," smiled the Englishman. "Tammy never annoys me, and I'm sure Lauren is always a pleasure to be around!"

His girlfriend scoffed, and Lauren smiled. The mood around the table was good, and that boded well for the day. All around them the gentle clitter and clatter of cutlery on crockery could be heard as the six of them ate their breakfast.

"Aww, really? I never annoy you?" asked Tammy, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She was a cheerful sort of girl, always eager to joke around and have some fun, but she applied herself well to her work as well. This morning she wore a grey tank top that was slightly stretched from use, and the tight curls of her light brunette hair hung low over her full chest. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

The chitter-chatter continued until each and every plate was empty, and John was first to leave, spotting the arrival of Ronny and Donny through the long kitchen window. He asked Juan to accompany him, leaving Lauren to take Eric, Alan, and Tammy to the orchard.

Outside the sun was set against clear blue skies, and the day was especially hot for this time of year. As Tammy and Alan took a moment to apply some sunscreen to their pale, British skin, Lauren sidled up alongside Eric, and the pair made their way down the worn pathway towards the orchard proper.

"You know a bit about orchards, huh?" she asked, recalling what he'd said earlier. She was aware that he'd worked on orchards before, but she had little idea as to the extent of his knowledge. In truth, she knew very little about him at all, and that made her very curious. He was something of an enigma to her, and besides arousing her curiosity, that fact also made him rather attractive to her. With John showing little interest in anything at all, really, she had gotten used to the fact that her eyes and mind would wander from time to time. As yet she had never been compelled to act on her attraction to anyone else, but she'd be lying if she said she was never tempted.​
 
Despite John's jovial nature Eric seemed to see through it like a clear window. Reading people was one such skill that he had been forced to pick up early in life. And while John had not done anything to Eric, he didnt really care for him. Though he hid the emotion well as he faked a grin during breakfast.

It was apparent that Eric had not had much in the way of formal education. But even more apparent was his natural intellegence. While he lacked the formal schooling needed to work a higher earning he quickly picked things up. And could look at problems that needed solved from different angles than many people that had formal schooling. So as he and the attractive older woman walked down the path Eric looked down on her and nodded. "I know a bit about it. Dont know the proper names for everything. But worked in an apple orchard for about a year solid a couple years ago." He replied in his usual deeply calm voice.

Like Lauren, Eric's skin was deeply tanned and it was obvious not only by his skin tone but by his tight musculature that he had spent most of his life out in the elements working hard. "I picked up a few things there that migjt help you out if ya wanna hear bout it." He continued as they entered the rows of aging trees.
 
She smiled in response and gave a short laugh, not laughing aloud so much as expelling a short, punctuated breath of air through her nostrils.

"No offence, sweetie," she replied, looking up at him as they walked and placing a hand on his upper arm, "but I imagine I've learned more in all the years this orchard's been in the family than you did in a year."

She allowed her smile to grow warmer so that he could be sure she meant no disrespect, and her hand lingered on his bare arm for a moment longer than she was comfortable with. She recalled that John used to be lean and strong like Eric, back in his youth. He was hardly weak now, but despite working day after day he had somehow managed to let himself go, and possessed a pot belly and puffy male breasts that made his wife long for a younger model.

"I'd still like to hear what you've learned, though," she added, taking her hand back and casually continuing on between the tree lines, her mind now wandering to places that she knew it shouldn't, but to which she would not stop it from going. She was quiet sure that Eric was smarter than he'd have her believe, and had an inkling that he'd learned all kinds of useful things down through the years. What he knew about orchards didn't interest quite as much as what he might know about other things, however...

Further back, Tammy and Alan were still in the bedroom they shared in the Smith's house, each taking turns applying sunscreen to the others skin, and here and there stealing smitten kisses from one another.​
 
The affectionate touch felt good and Eric felt no need to shy away from it. The warm touch actually eased the sting of her comment. But she was right. He had only worked in one apple orchard and a handful of other farms. So she was probably right. But when she offered to hear him out anyway he smirked down at her and said. "You ever use trees that are past their pime as compost between newly planted trees?"

After her hand was gone he shoved his own into his pockets and continued to speak while he pointed at an elder apple tree with his chin. "I know I haven't been here long. So I havent seen the whole thing yet. But what I seen looks like they're about to hit the end of growing fruit." Then a thought entered his mind. It almost sounded like he was saying that she hadnt been caring for them. So he added. "I can tell that lots of work been done this year. But some of em look like they hadnt been pruned before this year."

With a shrug of his shoulders he went back to his earlier question and said. "Anyway. Composting whole trees by new ones. I dont see any mounds where ya have. So I thought I'd ask." As he looked down awaiting her answer he couldn't help but gaze at the bit of displayed cleavage for a moment. But only for a moment.

He asked that particular question because while it was obvious thst she knew what she was doing. He was unsure of how long they had been growing organically.
 
Eric was right, but what he hadn't factored into his thoughts—or at least what Lauren guessed he hadn't—was just how much of running both the farm and the orchards was left to her and her alone. John was far from useless, but he had about as much interest in the managerial side of things as he had in country music; even a cursory glance at his CD collection showed reams of Pink Floyd, Judas Priest, and Black Sabbath, though his interest in music had dwindled as much in the past decade or so as his interest in anything else. To put it simply, he had no interest in managing anything at Applewood. Lauren was half-convinced that the only reason he did any work around the place was to avoid having to find a way to occupy himself.

She rolled her eyes towards the heavens and shook her head, and one corner of her mouth tightened matter-of-factly.

"I know, Eric, I know," she sighed. "I've been meaning to get someone in to do something about the old trees, but there's a lot to do around here. I'm sure you've noticed. Still, it's nice to have someone around who shows an interest."

She smiled up at him, blinked her blue eyes and let her gaze drop briefly to his chest before returning to his face. She found herself appreciating the moment alone that they'd been afforded, and appreciating the interest he'd shown in the running of the Fields too. She even found herself appreciating the way he talked, the way he dropped the 'th' at the start of 'them' cast him more as a man of the real world than as a man of fine education; she'd be happy to see her daughter, Elizabeth, settle for an educated man, but she herself preferred her men gruff and physically capable. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was conscious that Elizabeth would be back from vacation in the coming days, and that fact made her appreciate this moment just a little bit more. Her daughter was bright and bubbly and loved by just about everyone, and she didn't doubt that if Eric was going to turn his attentions towards anyone it would be towards her. It's an odd thing, mother-daughter jealousy, and it can inspire some rather unexpected events.

"I'm sure Alan and Tammy will be along in a moment," Lauren said while they still had their moment. "Maybe you and I can go for a walk this evening and we can talk about what can be done with the place. It'd be nice to get a second opinion."​
 
Eric nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Sure can. And from the looks of it. Won't be more than a couple months of extra work." Ever since he first arrived in Applewood Fields Eric assumed he would only be able to stay a month, maybe two. But now, if things went well and his host agreed with his ideas, he could possibly spend the entire winter overhauling the orchard.

Typically Eric wintered much further south. He liked to stick to warmer weather. But braving the cold weather during winter in Colorado was a small price to pay for the comfortable living and easy work. And his other business ventures were more than paying for his few luxuries and still had enough left over to put money away.

The tall, younger man found work where he could. And while this work did not pay, it was far easier than what he would likely be doing if he traveled to South Texas like he normally did during the winter. Down there he would likely be working on a drilling rig or some equally laborious position. Coupled with the fact that down there he would not be able to sell his wares without paying a tax to the gangs and cartels stating in a place like this was a no-brainer. If he was allowed to anyway. Though judging from Lauren's flirtatious nature and the amount of work that needed done in the orchard he was certain that he would be invited to stay.
 
"Great. I'll come get you after dinner," she smiled. "John's going into town this evening, so I'll come by your camper once I've dropped him off."

Given that John had his own car, Eric could deduce that the man's business in Silverton must revolve chiefly around a certain Mr. Jim Beam and his associates. Monday night outings were not common for the owner of Applewood Fields, but neither were they unheard of. He went drinking two or three nights a week, sometimes four, and most often in The Silver Spoon, a rustic bar run by Silverton native Jack Mansell and his wife Eleanor. Lauren accompanied him only occasionally, but most often she simply dropped him into town and allowed him to find his own way home. Oftentimes Eleanor herself would drive him back to the ranch, at other times he'd avail of a lift from the wife of one or the other of his drinking buddies, or simply take a cab.

It wasn't long before Tammy and Alan appeared at the end of the same row of trees down which Eric and Lauren had walked, and soon she had everyone equipped with baskets in which they were to collect low-hanging apples. Smith apples were advertised as being hand-picked, though where the trees grew tall they also employed machinery. Only the ripest apples were picked by hand, ensuring a high quality product. Those collected by machine were rebranded and sold under a different name, and apple quality could vary.

Spirits were high—much in part to the fine weather—and the morning passed without incident. Lauren found herself stealing the occasional glance at Eric when he wasn't looking, and stole a few glances at Tammy and Alan whenever they fell to playacting. She found them to be quite adorable together, and though only thirty-four years of age she was left longing for her youth. She had missed much by having a child so early in her life, but she had made her bed and now she had to lie in it. Consolation came in the knowledge that Elizabeth would be home soon, and that pleased her.

At 1 p.m. everyone reconvened in the kitchen for lunch. Lauren cooked while Tammy and Alan laid out the plates, and Juan offered to clean up, joking that she should have married him instead of John. The Texan was easy to like, and even John met his joke with good humour.

The morning's routine was repeated in the afternoon: Eric, Alan, and Tammy accompanied Lauren in the orchards, while John, Juan, and the McDonald brothers—who ate lunch with the others as always—returned to work the fields. The sky overhead remained clear and blue, and autumn butterflies flitted amongst the trees as they worked. Conversation was sporadic, but Tammy did ask about Elizabeth, and Lauren did inquire further about the young Englishwoman's studies. The curly-haired brunette got on well with Lauren's daughter, and was happy that she'd be back before her and Alan's time this side of the Atlantic came to a close.​
 
Eric seemed to feel it when her eyes landed on him as he did his work. Though he made sure not to let on. He didnt turn to look back when he felt her looking at him. Knowing when someone was looking wasnt so much a sixth scense as it was him being aware of his surroundings. No, he did not constantly turn his head or actively look around with his head on a swivel, like a war vet or cop. But he did learn early on when he lived on the streets to know everything that happened around him. During those years doing so meant the difference between an easy meal or going hungry, or the difference between being hurt or walking away. Despite the comfort he felt in this place old habits died hard. In this place in time though, his ability to know what was going on around him caused the tall and well built young man to smile to himself.

Over the years Eric saw many people act as Tammy and Alan did. While it was almost refreshing to see, it was never a behavior he felt a desire to recreate. Though he did at times recreate it. Mostly because he assumed that it was expected when he was with a woman for more than a night. It always worked out well though, and kept whoever he was with happy enough to keep him around until he was ready to leave. It was an activity that was never more than a means to an end for him and while he played the part well he knew thst he never enjoyed it as much as these two lovers did. But he did enjoy it.

The rest of the day went very much as he expected it to. After lunch he stopped pretending to not notice the attractive older woman's wantering glances. At first he simply 'saw' her gazing. But after a time he began to throw her little half grins and even allowed her the opertunity to catch him checking her out. He did of course look over toward Tammy throughout the afternoon. But the looks he gave her were only ones of civil courtesy. A chuckle when she said something funny. Or a laugh in retort to something Alan said about Tammy. But none of those looks could even remotly be construed as lingering. And through it all he said not a single word since he last spoke when he agreed to wait for Lauren to meet him in the evening.

Yes he knew where this likely would go and he knew it could cost him the safe, comfortable place where he now resided. But he learned long ago not to leave any avenue. Unchecked.

Even as the two women talked about Elizabeth he remained mute.

Finally at the end of the afternoon's work Eric retired to his nearly ancient RV. Despite its age, it was remarkably well kept. But still sported the old decor.

After a quick shower he pulled on a clean set of jeans then grabbed a small glass and a single, large icecube and poured some brown liquid from an ornate bottle into the glass. After he sat on the wellworn couch behind the driver's seat he set the glass down and picked up a paperback book.

His home on wheels was sparsly furnished with only the couch to sit on and a fixed end table to each side. The kitchen area was just as vacant. The small table and chairs had been removed long before he bought it. But there was a clean counter for him to set his plate when he ate there. Other than the minimal furnishings the only other items of note was the rolling toolbox strapped to the back of the passenger seat. There were no decorations no nicknacks. Just some motorcycle parts in the sink and an otherwise clean RV. And the only picture anywhere was a very aged one of a young boy standing next to a young girl of about the same age in what appeared to be an innercity playground that hung above the couch.

And so he sat there. Slowly sipping the brown liquid as he mouthed the words he read from his book.
 
It was eight p.m. when Lauren came knocking at Eric's door. She'd cooked dinner for John, herself, and the volunteers before showering off the day's sweat and dirt, and changed into fresh clothes before driving her husband to The Silver Spoon. A light blue halter dress left her arms and shoulders bare, ending just below mid-thigh. She wore a well-worn pair of leather boots that came up almost as far as her knee, and her gently waved hair hung loose about her shoulders. John wore old denims and chequered corduroy shirt over a sleeveless vest, and simply told his wife that he'd see her in the morning before exiting the car. It was an optimistic statement as he rarely managed to get into bed without waking her.

Tammy and Alan decided to spend the evening watching television. It was not a common activity for them as they wanted to take in as much of the surrounding area as they could before going back to the U.K., but after an entire summer spent in Colorado they'd seen most of what the Silverton area had to offer. They'd travelled further afield as well, but that required taking time off to travel, and that itch had already been scratched.

A natural serenity reigned over Applewood by the time that Lauren made her way to Eric's RV. The evening was a calm one, devoid of wind or breeze and set to the backdrop of the slowly setting sun. Half-sunken below the horizon, it spread a vermilion hue across the landscape, and cast long shadows amidst the trees where birdsong imbued the air with a natural music. The ground was firm beneath her feet, the grass slightly long around the RV and less trodden down than in other areas of the property. She didn't need a second opinion on what to do with the orchards, but it would be nice to have one conversation about it that didn't make her thing of the old adage of drawing blood from a stone. John simply didn't have the interest anymore, but Eric had seemed happy to do so. She suspected that the quiet volunteer would welcome the chance of a private conversation, having seen how reticent he usually was in the company of a group. Knocking twice on the door of his RV, she was soon to find out if that suspicion was correct.​
 
Eric sat there reading in the quiet comfort of his own little space. He hadnt even noticed how much time had passed since he left the conpany of the others. So the knocking at his door came as a bit of a surprise. But the surprise wore off quickly and the young man set down his book and pulled on his boots.

Fine dark hairs covered his broad chest and trailed down his flat stomach. No his physieque wasnt something that would ever end up in a magazine. But it was impressive none the less. As ge crossed the distance from the couch to the door he pulled on a black shortsleeve buttonup, probably the nicest shirt he had and answered the door with it open. "Hey." He said as ge climbed downand out of his home.

His eyes immediatly took her in and he looked the older woman up and down. She looked amazing in her blue dress. Though while he assumed his looking at her would be well received, he didn't want to come off as too forward. So after that first look his eyes found hers. As he began to button up his shirt he spoke. "So. Where we walking to?" His query intentionally sounded a little awkward.
 
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