Picking Roses

by BA Tortuga

  “Oh.” He grinned some more. “Well, have some chocolate and think about us making out like fools.”

  “Mmm. Chocolate. I bought Oreos at the store.”

  “Oh, that sounds good.” He had a ham sandwich in the fridge, and a piece of carrot cake from up at the house.

  “Uh-huh. I keep thinking I’ll make enchiladas, but that’s a lot of work for one. Maybe I’ll make tamales at Christmas, though.”

  “Oh, that would be good. Hell, if I could I’d come down.”

  “I know. Maybe… Maybe I could come up.” Sweet girl.

  “Oh. Do you get time off at the library, honey? I could get us a little tree…” That just. Damn. He was gonna have Thanksgiving with her too. Shit fire.

  “How fun would that be?” God, she sounded happy, tickled.

  “That would be real good, honey. They do pretty things up here too. Lights and all. Hayrides.”

  “Yeah? Will there be snow, do you think? I’ve never seen snow at Christmas.”

  “Ought to be.” There might well be snow before she got there. He couldn’t even tell her to get chains, because anyone just coming up for Christmas would fly into Denver.

  “Neat.” They talked for a little longer, then she sighed. “I’d better let you sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow night, if you’re not busy?”

  She asked, every night.

  “I’m not planning on ever being too busy for you, Rosie-girl.” He said the same thing every night too. “I love you, honey.”

  “Love you, cowboy. Sweet dreams.”

  The phone went dead and he grinned. He thought he would have the best dreams ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “The top’s okay, right? You think it’s okay?” She looked at Mr. Beau, hands shaking. She’d sold her furniture, packed her truck with her clothes, her movies and books, and her whole kitchen. She needed that stuff to make candy.

  She was doing this.

  She was.

  God help her.

  “Yes, ma’am. Sam made sure of it.” Beau and Sam had come down to help her. They were even going to store her rocking chair until she could afford to ship it.

  “You think he’s going to be happy?” Was she doing the right thing?

  “I think he’ll be over the moon.” Beau patted her shoulder. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  “Yeah?” She looked at him, then pushed into his arms. “I’m sorta scared, Mr. Beau.”

  “I know.” He hugged her tight-tight and kissed her cheek. All cowboys had a certain scent to them—leather and smell good and work. It was comforting.

  “I’m heading to Little Rock to see Jeannie and Mark, then Carrie and Jackson in Springfield, and Lisa and Little Joe in Topeka. It’ll take a couple extra days, but I want to visit.” She had riders to see in Lincoln and Cheyenne too. It would be an adventure. Kinda going around her elbow to get to her ass, but it would work.

  “You call me every step of the way.” He stared at her hard, like her daddy would have. “Sam and I have that extra plane ticket we talked on. We can fly in anywhere and drive you the rest of the way.”

  “Okay. Yeah. I’m good. I promise. I’ll miss y’all.” So bad. They were good friends.

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  Sam chuckled, coming over, wiping his hands on a rag. “Your oil is fine, honey.”

  “Okay. I have new tires. I have my emergency money, my phone.” She had a clean pair of jeans and all sorts of layers in the cab.

  “You’re on your way.” Beau hugged her again, close. “You’ve got people, Miss Rose. Don’t you forget it.”

  “Never. You don’t forget about me, either, huh?”

  “Not a chance.” Beau finally kissed her cheek and stepped back, letting Sam envelop her in a big old hug.

  “Okay. Okay, I’m off. I’ll call from Little Rock tonight. Promise.” Maybe Texarkana. The day was slipping by…

  “You get on the road and don’t look back, Rose.” Beau actually patted her butt, which made her giggle madly.

  “I will. I will.” She glanced at Presley, took a deep breath. She could do this.

  She could.

  Really.

  She hoped.

  * * * *

  Les sat by the phone, waiting for Rosie to call.

  Lord, but this was a nail-biter, knowing his girl was on the road by herself. He spent the evenings chewing his nails until she called, because then he knew she was somewhere safe.

  The phone rang, her number popping up. “Hey, cowboy.”

  Jesus, she sounded tired.

  “Hey, honey. I’m missing you.”

  “Me too.” He heard her sigh, wondered if she’d made it as far as she’d hoped.

  “How was your day, Rosie?” He tried to keep it normal. Tried hard.

  “Long. A little scary. I went somewhere to eat I’d never been before and I didn’t like it.”

  “Yeah? Was it nasty?” Poor baby. If someone had been awful to her, he might have to go kill them.

  “Yeah. It was kinda… I was just a little scared, I guess. I’m such a dork.”

  “Well, you’re a stud, honey.” He grinned at himself. She was something else.

  “That’s me. Little Miss Studly.” He could hear Presley in the background, yapping. “Oh, Pres. Hush. Just rest. Tell me about your day, cowboy.”

  “Give him one of them pepperoni sticks, honey.” Surely she’d brought some with her. “I moved a bunch of cows today, did some feeding.” He’d damned near cut his hand off on a piece of wire but he wasn’t about to tell her that. She would freak out.

  “Yeah? I think we should invest in a brood mare for you, breed some babies.”

  “You think so?” Oh, now. That was a thought. A real thought. Les liked the idea of maybe breeding bucking horses. “I like it.”

  “I do. We need a nest egg, something to build on, huh?” She was so damn smart. And his.

  “We do. I think it’s a grand idea. I can ask around, and maybe when you come up for Christmas, we can go look at some fillies.”

  “That would be fun, huh?” He heard her sigh, sniffle a wee bit. “Miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. You sound like it was a purely bad day, Rosie. What can I do?” He held his breath, half hoping she’d say what was what.

  “Tell me that you love me a little?”

  “I love you more than a little, honey. I love you this big.” He knew she couldn’t see, but the first time he’d done that, she’d teased him about his long arms.

  Oh, Lord. He did adore that happy little laugh.

  “That help any?” He sure hoped so. His girl didn’t need to carry such a heavy load alone.

  “It helped a lot.” She laughed again, sounding happier for sure.

  “Good. I don’t want you sad, Rosie-girl.” Or hurting or too tired to go on.

  “Thank you, cowboy. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Of course you will. I’ll be here, waiting.” Waiting for her to come home safe to him, to tell him she was only miles away.

  “Okay, love. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night.”

  “You know it, honey. I love you.” He was getting downright unhappy about this whole traveling thing, too.

  Still, she had to show up soon, right?

  She had to.

  He was gonna go crazy if she didn’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rose hit Beau Lafitte’s number on her cell, chin on her knees. Please be home. Please answer.

  Please.

  “’Lo?”

  Oh, thank God. And it was Beau, not Sam.

  “Beau? It’s Rose.” Just like that, she started crying. God damn it. She’d been doing so good too.

  “Miss Rose? Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Beau’s voice sounded like home, so comforting, the slow drawl a balm.

  “It’s dark and scary and I blew a tire. I’m waiting for Triple A, but it’s just… It’s real dark out here and I’m so tired and things just aren’t going easy.” So
mething had gone wrong every day, it seemed, and the five-day trip had become ten when her truck broke down in Omaha and she was so tired.

  “You what? Where are you? Sam and I can be there in no time.”

  “Wyoming. It’s cold and yucky and the truck’s not doing so good.” It felt so right, just to let it go, just to fess up and talk.

  “Rose, you need to call Les. Hell, he could be there in an hour or two.” Beau sounded so sympathetic that it made her tear up again.

  “No. No, I just have to be strong and I can be there tomorrow. It’s just… It’s real dark and I can’t call him because I’ll cry.”

  “Well, if you need me to come, I can. Or if you just need me to sit here and chat, I can do that, too.”

  “I just… Can we talk, Beau? Just until the guy comes? I’m sorta scared.” Scared and cold and feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. Her tires were new, damn it, and she’d hit a two by four in the road and boom.

  “We can. Are you in the car with the doors locked? That will make you feel better.” He rambled on about things she could do to feel safe and warm that wouldn’t run down the battery.

  She started to relax, to breathe. “You’re my best friend.”

  She felt like she could make it now.

  “Well, that’s good to know. I love you to death, Miss Rose. I don’t want you to be scared or nothin’.”

  “This is harder than I thought. I’m feeling like a weenie.”

  “You’re doin’ fine.” When she made a protesting noise, he hushed her. “You are. You’re not used to any of this, and you’re powering through. I’m proud.”

  “You think Les’ll be excited? You think he’ll be happy?” If she got there and he didn’t want her, Rose thought she might just die.

  “I think any man who wasn’t would be a fool. You said he didn’t want to leave you behind, right?”

  “He didn’t. He wanted me to come along. I was the one to be all adult and say we needed to wait.”

  “There you go. He’s got it bad for you, Miss Rose. Don’t you forget it.”

  “I’m trying, Mister Beau. I swear. I just… I’m real tired. I’ll be with him tomorrow, though, won’t I?”

  “You will. You surely will.” The certainty in Beau’s voice might just carry her through. That and the headlights of the tow truck.

  “They’re here.” Thank God. “Thank you, honey. I’ll text you when I get to a hotel. There’s a La Quinta I’m going to crash at.”

  “Good girl. If you have any more trouble, though, you call. You hear?”

  “I promise. Thank you.” She hung up after goodbyeing him and got out of the car, hushing Presley. Tomorrow.

  Tomorrow she’d be in Les’ arms.

  Please God.

  * * * *

  Les limped into his kitchen, debating between water and a cup of coffee. He’d left himself a Thermos full this morning, before the snow got so bad and he had to get out there and bring in the calves from the spring. The poor babies would freeze to death in this kind of monster blizzard. They weren’t even yearlings yet.

  He’d tugged off his boots by the back door, and the floor felt cold under his socks, so Les went with coffee. He poured a cup, then grabbed his phone where he’d left it plugged in on the counter. There wasn’t a bit of sense in taking it out in this shit—he wouldn’t have any bars and he’d just lose the damn thing anyway, get it wet as hell.

  He thought maybe his hair was steaming. He flipped to the missed calls, and he had ten from Beau Lafitte. Shit. His heart kicked into overdrive, and he didn’t waste time listening to voice mails. He called right back, needing to hear whatever it was from the horse’s mouth.

  “’Lo?” That wasn’t Beau.

  “Uh, this is Les Jacoby. I need to speak to Beau.”

  “Ah. I’m Sam. Rosie hurt the tires in her truck.” The man was hard to hear and not making a bit of sense.

  “What?” She had a flat? “Is she at a hotel? We’re having bad storms. She can stay where she is until it blows over.”

  “’Kay. I’ll call her. Wait there, huh?”

  “I will.” Waiting. Jesus. He wasn’t supposed to know she was coming but Les wanted to call now.

  He rapped his fingers on the counter, fed the dog, waiting for the damn phone to ring. When it finally did, he tapped answer right away, barking his hello.

  “Hey, Les. I can’t get hold of her. I haven’t been able to since last night. She was waiting on Triple A and said they were there, but that was the last.” Beau sounded so damned worried.

  “Where was she?”

  “Wyoming—near Laramie, I think.”

  “Fuck.” Panic rose in his throat because the weather was vicious all over their region. “I have to go get her.”

  “Good. Good, is it pretty much a straight shot?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be tough if the weather wasn’t a bear.”

  “Yeah. Well, me and Sammy can start up your way.”

  Because that would help. Les shook his head. “No. No, I’ll head her way and keep calling.”

  “Let me know when you get to her, will you?” Beau was a good man and Les would be so tickled to meet him at the wedding.

  “I’ll keep you posted. Sorry, I was out gathering calves or I would have been on it earlier.”

  “Damn, man. You mean you actually work for a living?” The tease made him breathe again, the laugh surprising him.

  “I know, right? Thanks for everything, Beau.” He needed to get moving, try to call his girl.

  He started yanking on his coat again, as he dialed Rose up. The damn thing went straight to voice mail. “Call me as soon as you can, honey,” he said before hanging up and calling the boss.

  “Les, ’sup?”

  “I have to go to Laramie, boss. Just to pick up my girl.”

  “There’s no way, son. Highway patrol’s closed both 14 and 125. They aren’t letting anyone through.” Harris sounded as bushed as he felt.

  “God damn it!” He slammed his hand onto the kitchen counter.

  “I know.” The boss sighed. “I have a cousin up that way if you want me to call.”

  “I don’t even know where she is, boss. I mean, she was outside of Laramie, last I knew.”

  “Why in the living hell would she go through Wyoming from Texas to come here?”

  “Something about mountains and a Cajun giving advice.” Really, it had been about staying with friends instead of hotels and her truck breaking down and her wanting to avoid that road between I70 and Steamboat.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

  Yeah. Yeah, and now he felt like an idiot, going along with this stupid game of hers. What if she was hurt? Lost? His Rosie was from goddamn New Orleans for goodness sake and her people had all died in a storm that folks knew was coming.

  Les took a deep breath. “If you don’t mind calling your cousin, I’d love to have someone on tap. I’ll try her line again.”

  “Good deal. Hang tight, huh? She’ll be here soon.”

  Les hung up with the boss and went to flip on his shortwave to get the news from the National Weather Service. Okay, he had chains for his truck, had emergency gear. As soon as he could leave, he would.

  He tried Rosie again and got nothing. “Come on, Rosie girl. Call me back. I’m thinking of you.”

  Les couldn’t feel less helpless, and that was an idea he wasn’t used to.

  One way or the other, he sure as shit didn’t intend to get used to it now.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rose sat in the parking lot of this truck stop outside of Laramie, and sobbed, head down on her steering wheel.

  She couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t. It was scary and roads were closed everywhere. She couldn’t call Mr. Beau and, even worse, she couldn’t call Les or get her GPS to work because there wasn’t any signal here.

  She couldn’t go back and she couldn’t go forward and Presley was crying and…

  The knock to her window scared the peewaddi
n’ out of her, and she let out a sharp scream, finding this short, squat muscled woman in a flannel shirt and a huge open coat standing there when she glanced up.

  She lowered her window a crack. “Can… Can I help you?”

  “Well, sweetpea, I was fixin’ to ask you that very same question.” The voice was warm, deep, and absolutely from back home somewhere. The woman had bright blue eyes and a gold tooth, which made Rose want to burst into hysterical giggles.

  “I’m trying to get to Steamboat Springs—have you ever heard of it? I’m meeting my boyfriend there, but there’s no signal and I’m… I’m…”

  The tears started again, hard and absolutely unavoidable.

  “Hey. Hey, come on. Let’s get a cup of joe, yeah? Bring the pup. Janie won’t mind and it’s dead in there.”

  She almost said no, but the lights at the truck stop glowed warm and she was just freaking out. Sniffing, she wrapped her scarf tighter, then tucked Presley into his little carrier. The cold took her breath when she stepped out.

  “I’m Charlene.” The lady steadied her, one hand under her arm.

  “Rose. Rose Cutrer.”

  “Pleased. Come on, now. Let’s warm you up and find a plan.”

  She followed along, feeling as if she was on another planet. Everything looked like the surface of the moon, and she watched steam rise off Charlene’s shoulders when they made it inside.

  “Oh, Lord. Hey, Charlene. Who’s your friend?”

  “Name’s Rose. She’s heading to Steamboat with no chains and Texas plates.”

  “Oh, poor baby!” The waitress wore a name tag that read Janie, so maybe she was the owner or manager too. “I bet you swung up this way to avoid bad weather, huh? This sure is a freak thing.”

  “I did. I was trying to avoid the big mountain passes, you know? It’s still ninety degrees at home.” A freak thing? For real? God, that made her feel like less of an idiot.

  “Usually not until Thanksgiving at the earliest. Sit. You look peaked.”

  “I am.” She put Presley down beside her. “Is there coffee? I’d kill for a good cup.”