Cold Hands Ch. 01

///Cold Hands\\\

By Scottish Texan

All characters engaging in sexual congress within this story are at least 18 years old or older at the time that it happens. This is an original work of fiction, Copyright 2022 ^© by Scottish Texan. All rights are reserved by the author. This work is not to be published or reproduced without his express consent. Any references to actual people living or dead is purely coincidental. Literotica.com is granted limited license to publish this work under their own rules and guidelines that are available for viewing on their website.

+++ Preface +++

When I was a teenager, 8 track stereo tapes were very popular. I don't recall whether it was a Christmas gift, or a birthday gift. But my parents gave me an 8 track tape of the John Denver album ' Windsong '. I was a huge fan of documentaries and any time there was a National Geographic special or something similar on the television, you could be guaranteed to find me in the living room glued to the television set. Jacques Cousteau was one of my heroes. John Denver wrote a song about him and his ship RV Calypso. I absolutely loved that song and Windsong was the album that it first appeared on. I wasn't a rabid John Denver fan, but I did like an awful lot of his music. I also enjoyed his acting. I had always wished that he had been a recurring character as deputy Dewey Cobb from the episode of 'McCloud' that he appeared in. It was one of his best roles. Another song on that album that caught and held onto my attention was ' Spirit '. But I want to give credit where it is properly due. The inspiration for this yarn comes from the John Denver song "Two Shots", also on that same album. If my memory serves me correctly, it was the final track in the album. If you read this story, you will come across the word 'Neches'. I hear people mispronounce it quite frequently. The first 'e' is said like a long 'a'. So the proper way to pronounce it is " Nāy-chĕz " with the last 'e' pronounced as a short 'e' just like in 'chess'.

+++Chapter One+++

It was late on a Saturday evening as I pulled my pickup truck into the parking lot of my local Ice House. The day had not gone as well as I had hoped. This was the first week of duck hunting season. My parents had given me a brand new 'over & under' 12 gauge shotgun for my twenty-first birthday. It was a CZ Redhead Premier with 28 inch barrels. Today was my first opportunity to use it out in the field. I guess that I should have taken it for practice at a skeet shooting range before going hunting with it. I saw several flights of ducks, but I had come back empty handed. The bead on the end of the barrel didn't line up the same as the one on my older semiautomatic Remington at home.

The blind that I had set up on my uncle's property was located in a pretty decent spot. His forested land bordered up against the Neches river. The owner of the adjacent property had cleared his land and usually farmed some sort of grain on it. He rotated his crops between wheat, barley, rice and corn. Since it was located on a flyway, the ducks and geese frequently landed in that field to search for the seeds and grains that had escaped the harvest machinery and fallen to the ground. The owner was good friends with my uncle and neither one had any objections to letting me hunt there. I counted myself a blessed man since I didn't have to fork out any money for a hunting lease.

I went inside and found a seat at the bar a little bit away from the other patrons there. All I wanted at the moment was to have a warm place of solitude and to drown my sorrows in alcohol. The temperature outside was hovering in the mid 20s with the snow falling at a steady pace. I was chilled to the bone, but the atmosphere inside the establishment was cozy and warm. The bartender wandered over to where I was sitting while still using a towel to polish a tumbler that he had been holding when I walked in. I ordered a Kahlúa and Coke, no ice. He set the tumbler onto the bar in front of me and mixed my drink from a bottle and the soda tap as I watched.

With the mood I was in, I didn't have any interest in the other patrons inhabiting the premises. As I drank alone, the warm liquor sliding down my throat and into my gullet began to thaw me out. I was not expecting any company and I was only on my second round when an attractive female sashayed over to take the seat beside me. She had blonde hair and small breasts. She was obviously looking for a hookup since her shirt was unbuttoned all the way down the center, revealing that she wasn't wearing a bra. She bore a striking resemblance to Shari Shattuck, especially since she was dressed nearly the same. Shari appears in the video for Caught Up In You as the leading female, so look it up on YouTube if you want a reference to my description.

Her eyebrows of brown betrayed the fact that her blonde hair came from a bottle. However she did have nice captivating hazel eyes. Her hair hung down in waves to about the middle of her back. She wore only a conservative amount of makeup. Her perfume was light and airy. Her cherry lip gloss was probably flavored. Without asking for permission, she reached up and took my Stetson from my head and placed it on her own. It was a really sexy maneuver, but unfortunately I wasn't in the mood.

"That's a really good way to get a bad case of lice." I opened with a snarky attitude.

"Nah, you're too clean and well groomed to worry me like that," she countered. "Now take Fred over there? He would be the one to win the award for most likely to have lice." She nodded in the direction of a 50 something loser with dirty hair and a beer gut who looked as if the Ice House was his second home. The last time he had showered was probably some time last week.

I couldn't help but chuckle at her humor. It was quiet possible that I had misjudged her on my first impression. Even though she was drop dead gorgeous, as I took stock of her I was still convinced that she just wasn't my type. Don't get me wrong, I would definitely have nailed her if all I wanted was a quick and easy lay. But I found out very early on after I was no longer a virgin that I was NOT a fan of the one-night stand. It may be fine for other people, but I found it to be very unsatisfying in the extreme. If I like a girl enough to take her to my bed, then I like her enough to want to spend time with her and share life experiences together. I judged this girl to be a year or two older than myself. Call it a hang-up, but I only dated girls younger than me. Again, I don't judge other people or their own preferences. It just isn't mine.

"I can tell by the looks of you that you have been outside in the weather all day," she offered. "Whatcha been up to?"

I took a long sigh before answering, "huntin'".

"You kill any deer?" She asked.

"I don't need to get arrested by the Game Warden sweetheart, so no." I answered with a slight hint of a bad attitude. "It isn't deer season just yet. I was hoping to bag me some geese or ducks. My mom would cook 'em up come Thanksgiving."

"That sounds real nice. Didja get any?"

An old John Denver tune chose that moment to pop into my head. Personally, I can't carry a tune in a bucket. But it didn't stop me from trying. So I sang out, "I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold cold hands."

"Honey, if that's your best attempt at a pickup line, then you're never going to get a date." She chuckled. "I've never been huntin'. I'm certain that I would never have the courage to kill anything."

"It's not about the killin'," I responded. "Anything that I take is going to end up in a pot or in the oven. I don't kill for the pleasure of it. My pleasure comes from food on the table that you can't buy in the grocery store. The flavor of nature can't be raised on a farm. Plus the whole experience you get from huntin' can be very spiritual. Take today for instance. Several years ago, I built a duck blind on my family's property outside of Cuney."

"What's a duck blind?" She interrupted me.

"It's a small shelter, usually big enough for just one person. But it can be larger if needs be. You paint it to match the surroundings and it conceals your presence from whatever you are hunting. But I always notice a certain beauty to nature when I am out there. It was a typical winter morning today. The air was cold, but not bitterly so. The sky was overcast. Looking out over the Neches River, the water was colored grey. The snow was falling steady, and it looked like a soft blanket out on the fields. A flight of ducks appeared low overhead. I fired both barrels from my gun, but I hit nothing."

"Thrilling," she muttered nonplussed.

I hadn't noticed, but the jukebox had finished playing the last song that someone had paid for, so my conversation was evidently the only entertainment currently to be had. Everyone in the place was looking at and listening to me. Looking at several of the faces, I could tell that some of my comrades at the bar could relate to my experience. Their eyes held the same message of patience, hope, and the thrill of the hunt. They seemed to expect more from me but the only thing that I could come up with at the moment was, "I guess that if the Good Lord had wanted me to get one, he surely would have sent more ducks my way."

"So is this the best you can do to try and sweep me off of my feet?"

In that moment, it occurred to me that I had been minding my own business when she had approached me. It wasn't the other way around. But at the same time, I have never been antisocial even though sarcasm is often my second language. So I said, "I could try telling you a joke, I guess." She answered with a simple 'okay'.

"So, these two blondes were walking through the woods one day. Looking at the ground, they noticed a set of tracks. The first one said, 'Ooo, look! I see a set of deer tracks!' The second one replied, 'Nuh uh. They're much too large. Those must be moose tracks.' The two of them were still arguing about it when the train hit them." As an afterthought, I realized that it probably wasn't my best offering and a huge faux pas besides, considering that she had colored her hair like she did. But she had mentioned deer hunting earlier and I guess that was still in my head. Maybe I shouldn't have felt insulted about it, but I was. I was having a bad day all around.

She took my hat back off of her head and replaced it onto my own. She laughed lightly then kissed me on the cheek. It was extremely sexy the way that she did it. She gently held my neck in her hand as she leaned in. Her hand was warm and soft to the touch. Her lips were nice and moist as she pressed them gently against my cheek. She held the kiss for almost five full seconds while applying a gentle suction to my cheek. Her mouth made a quiet 'smacking' sound as she broke the kiss. I knew without any doubts that she intended it to be affectionate without being passionate. She wandered over to the jukebox and dropped some more quarters into it, picking out several new songs for it to play.

It wasn't until that moment when she left me and walked away that I realized she had lifted my mood for a short while. It was really pleasant sharing her company and talking to her. I had been sharing my day, but in the end it just wasn't her thing I guess. So just like the snow falling softly outside, my heart too fell. Just more proof that she wasn't 'The One'. I sat on my stool and stared at my glass as I slowly turned it in my hands. For the moment, I lost touch with the passage of time.

When I looked up again towards the neon lit clock on the wall, several hours had passed. I had not ordered another round since my angel had left me, so I was no longer buzzed. I briefly glanced over all of the other patrons of the bar, but she was no longer there. It was time to head home. I paid my tab and left a generous tip, then walked back out to my truck. The snow had not abated, so there was a blanket measuring about a quarter inch thick on the roof and hood. The drive home turned out to be quiet and uneventful.

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After I took all of my gear back inside of my home, I made sure to break down my gun and give it a proper cleaning before storing it back in my safe. As I was washing the cleaning fluid and gun oil off of my hands, my stomach growled reminding me that I had not eaten anything that day. Checking the time it was not yet midnight, so I quickly grabbed my phone and used an app on it to order a pepperoni lover's pizza to go from our local 'Hut'. I jumped into my truck for the ten minute drive down the street. After I picked up my order, I turned around to make the trip home. I was only about halfway there when I came up behind a slow moving car that was weaving back and forth in its lane.

'This drunk is going to kill somebody before the night is through,' I thought to myself. It was then that the car veered over onto the shoulder and screeched to a halt. 'Uh oh. This can't be good.' The passenger door was flung open and someone tumbled from the car as if they had just been shoved out roughly. Then suddenly with screeching tires, the car accelerated away so swiftly that the passenger door swung closed and latched of its own accord. I pulled to the side of the road to offer assistance to the poor soul lying there. I immediately became concerned when they did not appear to be moving.

I jumped out and rushed to their side. You can imagine my shock when after I gently rolled them over I discovered that it was my own lovely angel from earlier at the bar. I was relieved to notice that she was still breathing. But she was not coherent, moaning out a name that I could not quite make out. It almost sounded like she was trying to say 'Anna'. As I checked her over for any injuries she didn't cry out in pain from my examination. So I carefully gathered her up in my arms and took her to my truck.

It was then that I noticed her handbag was laying on the ground where she had fallen. After I had her securely belted into the passenger seat of my truck, I went back and retrieved her purse. My first instinct was to take her to the nearest emergency room, but I was hoping that there might be other options. I didn't want her to be suddenly sidled with a huge medical bill unless it was absolutely necessary. I liked this girl, but she wasn't important enough to me that I would volunteer to pay her E.R. expenses either.

I opened up her purse hoping to find some kind of identification inside. I know how women totally fly off of the handle when you invade their privacy, but I figured that I could weather the consequences easily enough this time. The extenuating circumstances favored my side and left me with a good excuse. I located a small leather billfold inside that not only contained her credit cards, but her driver's license as well. It named her as Haley Fletcher and gave her address as an apartment complex conveniently just down the street from my own home. I was thankful in advance to notice that her apartment number indicated a downstairs unit. The thought of lugging deadweight up a stairway was very unappealing this late at night after a long disappointing day.

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When I pulled into the parking spot closest to her door, I saw that the lights were on and I could detect motion inside. 'Good! Someone is home,' I thought to myself. Leaving Haley in the truck, I quickly walked up to the front door. I knocked gently and waited a moment for someone to answer. Instinctively, I felt like I was being watched as I heard someone on the other side of the door. I looked at the peephole and noticed the change in light indicating that someone had just used it to observe their visitor.

The door cracked open slightly, still secured by a safety chain. A timid voice inquired, "May I help you?"

"I certainly hope so. Can you tell me if Haley Fletcher still lives here?"

"Yes, she's my sister. Why are you looking for her?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm not exactly looking for her. Actually, I just found her and I'm trying to rescue her."

The door immediately slammed in my face causing me to jump because it startled me. There was a sound of the latch rattling and then the door flung itself wide open again. Standing before me was a vision of loveliness that totally took my breath away. Her resemblance to Haley was remarkable. They would never pass for identical twins, but it was clearly evident that they shared their traits from the same gene pool. She was a tall, mousy girl. Her light brown tresses hung down perfectly straight, all the way to her waistline. She looked to be at least 5'9" tall if not taller, slender, and small chested like her sister. I couldn't really tell from the flannel pajamas she was wearing, but I would later learn that she barely fits inside of her 'B' cup bra and maybe could wear a 'C'. She could not have weighed in at more than 135lbs. As for myself, I was totally smitten in an instant. Never before had I experienced 'Love At First Sight' and truthfully did not believe that it existed. Well, not until that very moment anyway. Now, I knew differently.

"Where is she?" the sister inquired anxiously.

"Come with me," I said. I led her out to the passenger side of my truck and opened the door. Haley was still incoherent but conscious. The girl reached inside and unhooked the seat belt that I had used to secure her sister. Together, we gently eased her out of her seat. I offered to carry her inside, but her sister insisted on the two of us sharing the load. She looped one of Haley's arms over her neck and wrapped her own arm around Haley's waist. Both sisters were very close to the same height, so that worked well for her. Since my own height is 6'6", it was easier for me to support Haley on the other side by looping my elbow under her armpit then holding her elbow with my other hand as we walked her inside.

"Geezus, she reeks of liquor! When she insisted on leaving today, I just knew that this was going to happen. Her boyfriend David broke up with her about a week ago and she's not taking it very well. Her bedroom is this way."

Once inside, I could tell that they shared a two bedroom, two bath apartment. The layout was set up to be perfect for roommates. Each bedroom had it's own en-suite bathroom. The Living Room, Kitchen, and Dining Room rested between the two bedrooms dividing them for some small measure of privacy. We carried her to her bed and we worked together to get her out of her winter coat. I took off one of Haley's high heeled shoes as her sister took off the other. Any outside observer might have thought that we were a well practiced team by the way we worked together to administer to her sister's needs in that moment.

Once we had reached a point that required me to leave for her sister's modesty, I headed to the door. Haley's sister said, "If you don't mind, please wait for me in the Living Room. I don't want you to leave right away. I would like a moment to speak with you further. Please."

"My pizza is out in the truck and I don't want it to get cold," I replied.

"Please go get it and come back inside. You can eat it here in our dining room. I have cold beer for you."

"Thank you miss, but I don't drink beer. I never acquired a taste for it. But I'll stay if you have soft drinks."

"We have Coke, Root Beer, and some other flavors. I'll find you something that you will certainly like when I am finished putting her to bed."

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