Sunny Side Up

(This story contains mild expletives and one instance of physical abuse.)

“Hey, Ryder, how you doing?” Anna called out cheerily as the chimes jingled above the door he’d just entered.

“Morning, Anna. Doing fine. Just the usual, please,” he replied.

“Coming right up.”

Ryder nodded to a few other regulars who patronized the only diner in town as he made his way to his booth in the back corner next to the window. He slid into the seat that seemed barely sufficient for his large frame, took off his cowboy hat, laying it on the seat beside him and ran his fingers through his hair to rid it of the flatness the hat had imposed.

He glanced around briefly, taking in the familiar sites of the place he habituated almost as much as his cabin at Breakpoint Ranch. The food here was amazing and Ryder had never been much of a cook. Besides, although he liked his own company well enough, he enjoyed his daily forays to the diner. Sometimes for breakfast, sometimes for dinner and sometimes both. Expensive, maybe, but what else would he spend his money on? The ranch kept him busy enough that he had no time for travel and there wasn’t much else to spend one’s money on in this little forgotten backwater town off I-94. Besides, he needed his daily fix of Anna in order to reconfirm that the world wasn’t a complete cesspool.

He looked at the black and white checkered floor, the silver-studded red leather stools along the chrome-edged Formica counter, and the glass-fronted display case with the freshly baked pies and other sweets lining the shelves. The owner, Frank, had maintained the diner for decades; it was a little piece of history preserved.

He glanced at the handful of patrons, mostly retirees, who inhabited the other booths, tables and stools around the diner. He fidgeted with the menu he had memorized years ago. Finally, he allowed himself a quick peek at Anna. As he had figured, she was busy preparing a new pot of coffee—she always ensured he had fresh brewed when he came in. Her back was to him and he allowed himself a few more seconds to indulge in watching her.

She wore one of the simple, hand-made cotton dresses she often had on—this one white with many tiny colourful flowers speckled across the fabric. The bright red apron she always wore was tied at the back, and although he couldn’t see her shoes, he knew they’d be the white, rubber-soled, utilitarian style worn by thousands of servers and nurses who had to stand on their feet for most of their workday. Her thick, rich chestnut hair was wrestled into a no-nonsense bun.

Anna reached up to a shelf where the coffee filters were and his gaze slid down to where the material of her dress pulled tight, outlining a divinely curvaceous backside. His mouth went dry, and he quickly looked away. He glanced around the room to reassure himself that no one else had seen him checking out Anna. Wouldn’t that stir up a hornet’s nest of gossip if anyone thought he might be interested in her? He caught the eye of McGregor, who waggled his eyebrows at him, suggesting they shared a secret. Crap, Ryder surmised his ogling had not gone undetected. He forced his features into a bland expression, quirking an eyebrow at McGregor as if to say, ‘I have no idea what you are insinuating.’ In return, McGregor gave him a big, gap-toothed grin, silently calling him out for the big liar he was. Eager to be done with this silent exchange, Ryder turned his attention to the world outside the window.

He wasn’t interested in her, of course. Anna had grown up in this town. She was five years his junior. As sweet and naïve as he was cynical and life-weary. He had no time for any woman, let alone her. There was no way he would let his jaded, cranky ass spoil such an untamed beauty. Besides, the town folk would have his head on a pike if he got involved with her. Everyone was protective of Anna. Although technically not an orphan—only her mother was dead—her useless tit of a father made it almost true. It was often speculated that Anna would have been better off without him rather than have her dad as a continuous thorn in her side.

No one ever said as much to Anna directly, of course. She would have just stared in confusion at the speaker with her gorgeous brown doe eyes. It would probably never cross her mind to wish her father out of her life so that she could have a decent life for herself. The endless demands the old fart placed on her, the constant wheedling for attention and the complaints about everything she did seemed to slide right off her. She was always smiling and kind to anyone she crossed paths with. She was everyone’s sweetheart, and no one could upset Anna without incurring the wrath of the whole protective township.

Anna was still fuming over her father’s actions this morning. He was such an ungrateful ass! If she hadn’t been such an obvious suspect, he might have been buried up in the hills in an unmarked grave years ago. Damn, but he could get under her skin so easily, even after all these years and, for the first time, Anna was feeling real fear about living with him.

It had started last night when she’d dragged herself home after a hectic day at Frank’s Diner. She was the only waitress, which was usually fine, but a minibus full of tree planters had come through, and it seemed like almost everyone in town had decided to go out for a bite that day. She was exhausted, sweaty and hangry as she trudged up the creaking steps, through the sagging screen door and into the dingy interior where her father lay sprawled on their faded sofa, beer in hand, watching yet another true crime show. If only he knew the ideas those shows planted in her mind.

“’Bout time,” was his slurred greeting.

“It was busy today. I had to help Frank prep for tomorrow.”

“I don’t give a damn about friggin’ Frank. I’m your father, and I needed you,” he whined in that grating tone that scraped against raw nerves.

Anna sighed. She had two choices—either get into it with him and end up in a headache-inducing screaming match with an idiot, or deep breathe the hell out of this situation and get closer to the blissful night’s sleep that every cell in her body was aching for.

In: one-two-three-four. Hold: one-two-three-four. Out: one-two-three-four.

“So, what’s the problem, Errol?”

So maybe she was poking the bear a little. Her father hated when she used his given name rather than ‘dad’ or ‘father.’ Luckily, he was too far into the drink to react.

“I’m outta beer.”

No small surprise. It was becoming an almost daily complaint from him. Even though she had just bought a case, he’d plowed through that as if he lived in a desert. Sighing loudly, not caring that he heard, Anna said, “Well, the market is closed, so you’ll just have to have some sweet tea or water if you’re thirsty.”

“I don’t want no damned sweet tea! I want another beer,” he whined like a petulant child.

Yeah, and I want out of this hellhole, but I’m not getting that either, Anna thought. Knowing there was no point continuing the discussion, she turned and went to her bedroom, shutting the door on the complaints chasing her down the hall.

The following day had started with a fresh hell. Errol had passed out on the couch at some point and pissed himself. Disgusted, Anna had shaken him awake to tell him to shower while she tried to figure out what to do with the vile cushion—probably smarter to throw out the whole geriatric couch. He’d slowly rolled to an upright position, sitting on the edge of the sofa in his soiled pants, rubbing his whiskered face and moaning about his headache and ungrateful daughter.

“I have to get going, Dad,” Anna said, “can you please get off the couch? I’ll throw the cushion in the yard for now. You need to have a shower and change.”

“Don’t bloody tell me what to do!” his unpredictable temperament had flared. “I’m not a goddamned child—you treat your father with respect!”

Unable to contain her rising frustration, Anna fired back, “As soon as you’re respectable, I’ll give you that respect.”

For a hungover drunkard, Errol could still move with surprising speed. He leapt at her and pushed her hard before she knew what was happening. The ottoman was behind her and she’d gone ass over tea kettle when the back of her legs hit it. Landing on the floor hard, she hadn’t been able to prevent her elbows and head from smacking onto the worn hardwood, causing sharp pain to radiate out.

Errol stood over her, yelling unintelligibly, spittle flying from his loose lips. This was getting out of control! His violent interactions with her were escalating in severity and coming more frequently. She had to get out of there. Scooting backwards, Anna got away from him and regained her feet. She grabbed her purse and keys that had been left near the door and bolted out of there, her mind spinning with anxiety, pain and terror. What the hell was she going to do?

Anna grabbed an order from the pass-through window and hurried out from behind the counter. The coffee was almost brewed; she’d take some to Ryder next. Dropping off the breakfast special platter with a smile to Mr. Hanford, Anna turned to go back to the counter. She looked across the diner to where Ryder was sitting. She felt he had been looking her way, but saw he was only staring out the big window next to him, seemingly intrigued by the faded roadside sign stating this was the best food in Montana.

Anna took that moment to absorb the sheer numminess of Ryder. Dark, slightly wavy hair worn a little long in the back. Chiseled cheeks and jawline. Sensual mouth. Broad shoulders. Strong hands. He was her daily cardio. Every time she saw him, her pulse raced, and her breathing rate escalated. He had been her first love, even if he had no idea. She had pined after him when he went off to join the Marines and had mourned for him when he returned a shell of the man she’d known. Anna realized she was a trite cliché, believing that if Ryder was dating her, she could repair the damage of those years serving his country.

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” a chirpy voice said beside her. Anna looked down at Miss Betsy's smiling, wrinkled face.

“Picture?”

“Why yes, dear, a nice headshot perhaps? Something to pin next to your bed for those nights you’re feeling a little lonely and frisky.”

Anna could feel her face heating. “Whatever do you mean, Miss Betsy?”

“Ah, girl, don’t be coy with this old bat. Heck, if I were a couple of decades younger, you wouldn’t stand a chance against me competing for that fine piece of manhood over there. You snooze, you lose.” Betsy cackled in a rather disturbing way. Yeesh, poor Ryder had everyone lusting after him, apparently.

It wouldn’t do to let on how she felt about him, though; that would only encourage the gossipmongers, and things would feel even more awkward every time she encountered him. Miss Betsy didn’t need to know that Ryder had already occupied every daydream and sexual fantasy she had.

“I’ll be back with your bill in a moment, Miss Betsy,” was all she said as she hurried off to grab the pot of coffee. She was grateful Ryder always drank two or three cupfuls every time he was here, as it gave her more chances to linger in his aura while she refreshed his mug.

Ryder sensed her presence before he turned his head to see her coming towards him with a beautiful smile and a full carafe of coffee. He smiled back, and his ego applauded the faint blush that brought to her cheeks. It stroked his male pride that he had some effect on her, even if he would never do anything as asinine as asking her out. The idea that she might find him attractive would have to be enough. They both stared at the cup as she began to fill it, the steam swirling up, dancing around her delicate hand.

“You have a busy day ahead?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“As always. You know how it is. I’ve got a big length of fence to repair. It looks like the cows were trying to scratch off their winter coats on it, and now it’s leaning. If they get out, I’ll catch an earful from Hank.”

Hank was his neighbour, and everyone knew how protective he was of his grazing lands.

“Sounds like a lot of work on your own. You got any help?”

“No. I had young Ian in for a while, but he’s busy with his finals now.”

Silence fell between them again.

“Order up!” Frank called.

“I’ll be right back with your breakfast,” she said.

Ryder couldn’t help but watch as she walked away. His gaze, at first drawn to the subtle sway of her hips, was suddenly caught by the bruises on her elbows. What the hell? Even though their daily interactions were contained within the narrow boundaries of his dining experience, he still knew every detail about her. He memorized her every action when he was at Frank’s. Unobtrusively watching her movements, facial expressions and interactions with other patrons, he had acquired an entire encyclopedia of knowledge about Anna. A bit stalkerish perhaps, but he had no ill intent; his motivation was pure—driven by his desire to ensure she was okay and stayed happy and naïve and protected from the big bad world.

When she returned and set down the heaping plate of food.

Ryder ignored his usual breakfast, eggs sunny-side up, instead, he quietly asked her, “What happened?”

Her brow furrowed in puzzlement, “What do you mean?”

Going against every intelligent thought in his head, Ryder raised his hand to cup her elbow gently. He tried not to let her quiet gasp affect him. She was just surprised because he had never touched her. She wasn’t in any way turned on like he was by this innocuous connection. Nope, it was just all in his perverted head how the warmth of her skin sizzled up his arm, straight through his body and beelined for his crotch.

“I saw the bruises. Are you okay?”

He had expected a simple explanation, a silly story of no consequence, but he was watching her face when he asked and saw the emotions swarm across her face before she schooled herself again. Anger had flashed, then a sucker punch of fear, then blank resignation.

It hadn’t been an accident—there was something wrong here. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out—Anna either worked or was at home looking after her low-life father. Errol wouldn’t let Anna out of sight unless she were at work. Whatever had happened was probably linked to that asshat.

“Was it your father?” he asked.

Anna’s face went pale and she twisted her arm. Ryder immediately let go. He could feel the rage surging through his veins when she didn’t deny his question. The desire to beat the living shit out of Errol erupted with a ferocity that surprised him. Never had he felt this level of protectiveness for any other living being, but it was here now, and it was roaring to get out of its cage.

“That mother fu…” he began.

Anna cut him off. “It’s okay; he just woke up like a grumpy bear and got upset about something I said. I can handle him. I’ll be alright.”

“There’s not one damn thing that is all right about this. He hurt you!” A red haze filled his entire body. He tried to think straight, but some feral part of him was gnashing its teeth, craving blood.

“Ryder.”

Cripes, his name on her lips sounded like an angel’s song.

“I’ve saved up enough; I should be able to move out in a month or two. I’ll be okay.”

“You aren’t staying another minute under the same roof as that asshole,” he exclaimed. “There’s an extra cabin on my property. You’re moving in there today. Let’s go get your stuff now.”

“But…”

“But what?”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” her voice trailed off as she tried to devise a reason. “Well, first of all, because I’m on shift right now and can’t just up and leave.”

“Frank,” Ryder said, and of course, he didn’t have to wait for Frank to come to the pass-through. Frank was already lurking in the small window, hanging on to every word. Ryder also became aware that everyone in the diner was also focused on them.

“Yep?”

“Is it okay if Anna takes a break for a couple of hours while I get her settled at the ranch?”

“Hell yeah!” came Frank’s instant reply.

“Any other arguments?” Ryder asked a stunned-looking Anna.

She gaped at him for a few more moments, then finally shook her head.

“Good, then let’s get your stuff and get you out of that hellhole.”

A bright light that looked a lot like hope sparked in her eyes. Shyly, she nodded yes.

“It’s settled then, let’s go.”

He gently grasped her wounded elbow to steer her from the diner.

He heard someone say, “About time!”

Another replied with gusto, “Hell yeah!”

Suddenly, a round of applause broke out, accompanying him and Anna out of the diner and into the bright light of a new day dawning.