Sunshine Valley

Hillbilly yoga

     Dillon was in the barn pitchin’ hay, covered with grit and sweat. “How can I help?” Evie was leanin’ up against the side of his truck grinnin’ from ear to ear.

     He blushed, “how long have you been standin’ there?”

     Teka snorted, “just enjoying the show.” 

     “And you,” he pointed the pitchfork at Teka. “Some guard dog you are.” The horse snorted again. Curling her lips as if she was going to kiss him. “Keep me company,” 

     “I can do that.” Dillon lowered his tailgate and she hopped up. He gave her a playfull look. “Oh,” she put her hand over her mouth. “I forgot.” She hopped back down, battin’ her eyelashes. He slid his hands around her waist effortlessly picking her straight up. “Thank you kind sir.” Teka stuck her head out of her stall for Evie to pet. 

     “Hi my pretty girl,” she kissed between Teka’s eyes. “Are you enjoying the show?” The horse snorted. Dillon lowered his head, blushing as he smiled. “When it gets time to clean the barn, we can put out a message that you’re gonna teach a class of ‘Hillbilly yoga’ and sell spots.”

     Dillon started laughing. “Hillbilly yoga?”

     “This is a great workout. Not only would you be teachin’ a class on proper barn care. But look at the muscles you are working. We could do stretches, proper muscle movement so that you didn’t over exert. Proper ways to store tools.” Dillon just raised an eyebrow. “When we were in school they had FFA, do they still do that?  Would this qualify as FFA?” She questioned before continuing. “This is an amazing off-site learning environment. And with you being the sheriff, everyone knows you. Parents wouldn’t hesitate to let their teens come here to learn.” She thought, “even on field trips.” He just grinned, watching her as he leaned on the handle of the pitchfork. “What?” She blushed.

     “Is this what you meant when you said you ‘sold Doug’s work’?”

     “More or less.”

     “If it excites you, you’re free to try.”

    “Oooh,” she looked him up and down. “At the next sheriff’s department fundraiser, we can auction off a date with the hunky sheriff.”

     He leaned the pitchfork on his truck, strolled over to her, pulling her to the edge of the tailgate. She wrapped her legs around his waist. “Hell no.”

     “Just think of the money you would raise.”

     He kissed her. “If anyone won but you,” he trailed off. 

     “On second thought, I’ll just keep you to myself and make a private donation.”

     When he looked up, her eyes were twinkling with a mischievous expression he didn’t know. But was eager to explore. In between kisses he asked, “don’t you think yoga is a misrepresentation? Isn’t it more a series of poses and stretchs?”

     She giggled, “y sheriff. You never cease to amaze me.”

*I can’t take credit for the term Hillbilly yoga.

Samhain

Sunshine Valley